Just Another Night at Freddy's: Night Five: Competition
by DeltaV
Summary: With Foxy now temporarily living with Mike, things have gotten interesting for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. But when a new restaurant owned by a powerful corporation threatens the pizzeria's survival, it's up to Mike and the animatronics to deal with this new competition. Rated T for "no no words." Gets bloody at the end. If you close your eyes and squint (what?), it looks like PG-13.
1. Prologue

Prologue: Name Your Price

The phone in Arianna's office rang, and the manager answered.

"Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, this is Arianna," she said.

"Hello. I understand you have animatronic characters?" the person on the other end of the line, a man, said.

"That's right," Arianna replied, "Since we opened in '82."

She had been leaning back in her chair, but straightened once the robots were mentioned. Did they do something last night? It had been four days since Foxy had to be shipped between Schmidt's house and the pizzeria, so had something happened?

"I was wondering if you were considering selling any of them. I understand that your restaurant is… struggling," the man said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"We're doing alright," Arianna replied harshly, "And none of them are for sale."

The voice let out a thoughtful "Hmm."

"Come now, don't pretend everything's alright. Let me rephrase myself: I want them. Name your price," the voice baited.

"Let me rephrase _myself: _I don't want to sell them to _you,_" Arianna replied harshly. The man on the other end's voice turned harsh as well.

"You know as well as I do your business won't last another year!" the man said, "And believe me when I say I am _not_ someone with which you want to make an enemy_._"

Arianna laughed.

"Oh yeah? You don't scare me, buddy, I run a kid's restaurant! First of all, these are our robots, second of all, _kiss my ass!_" Arianna snapped, and slammed the handset back into its base.

"Dick," she muttered under her breath, looking at the latest attendance figures. There had been a slight rise in business after the whole fiasco at the mall, although Schmidt never explained the entire situation. His plan to get the animatronics out of there ended up getting the restaurant some positive publicity for once, despite complaints at the animatronics' condition.

Arianna sighed. Deep down, a part of her did take personal ownership of them, and she truly didn't want to sell them, company policy or not. And it was upsetting seeing them start to wear down. Nothing akin to a failure had happened yet, but joints squeaked, movements were jerkier than before, and their suits desperately needed to be replaced. Unfortunately, many of the suits Backstage were worse than the ones the animatronics wore, considering what they used them for, and dark bloodstains would not make for a family friendly atmosphere.

Another thing that worried Arianna was the recent discovery that the robots were completely sentient. It was a surprising realization, one that could have possible massive scientific value, and be worth a _lot _of money. It had been the goal since the restaurant began to have incredibly smart artificial intelligence, and learning software was used to create them. This software, had, over time, granted the robots unique personalities, likes and dislikes, and a sense of a social group such as friends.

But with all the controversy surrounding the pizzeria now, it was unlikely anything good would come out of revealing their sentience anyway, and the animatronics would most likely be scrapped, since they were completely capable of committing murder, and could plan out how. Yes, this wasn't intentional, but scientists wouldn't care. Even she didn't fully trust them, the only one who truly did was Mike, who spent the most time with them.

Arianna frowned. _Mike_. He was quite possibly her only ally in keeping this restaurant afloat, being the only other staff member who had personal ties to the place through his robotic friends, and he had proven to be almost next to useless. Yes, he had gotten the animatronics out of the whole mall situation, but he also allowed the deaths of two of people, and let a fire start. And there was that whole debacle with his parents. Idiot.

Arianna placed the new attendance data (which she had measured herself, since she could usually count the customers in the Dining Hall on one hand) back into the folder. The restaurant was just barely hanging on, and thankfully the insurance was able to completely cover the Kitchen repair, same as after the break-in. That one large party they had nearly a week ago had pushed the funds enough into the green to keep the place up and running through the rest of the year, if attendance didn't drop more than it already had. Who knew how long it would last?

* * *

><p>Damon Trout paced back and forth in his office, his assistant leafing through papers. Trout was an icon in entertainment venues, and his company, Trout Entertainment, dominated the so-called "dinner theatre" genre. He owned a vaudeville style steakhouse, a medieval themed restaurant that held actual tournaments, a chain of murder-mystery venues, and a popular chain of small sit-down restaurants that featured magicians. But, aside from the medieval restaurant, most of his eateries only appealed to adults. And the real money was found in children. That's when he learned of Freddy Fazbear's.<p>

Apparently, it was extremely popular in the 1980s, but never expanded past one restaurant. Recent times haven't been kind to the place, and Trout heard rumors that the pizzeria would be closing. The success story of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was what inspired him to make his own pizza place, complete with singing animatronic animals, to fill the gap Freddy's would leave upon its closure. Plus, he could expand, and soon have a chain spread throughout the nation! The formula clearly worked for Freddy's. And so, Pizza Baron was born. The name came from the main animatronic character, a German shepherd dressed in traditional lederhosen and hat (Europe was apparently all the rage these days), named Baron Von Pizzä. He would serve as the more "serious" character, being the one to explain rules and such. And what better voice than a German accent?

To appeal to the younger audience members, there was Drake the Dragon, dressed in knight armor and brandishing both sword and trumpet. For the older children, there was Maxwell Circuit, a wolf-dog animatronic that played a keytar, an instrument that was a cross between a guitar and a keyboard. Research had shown kids thought both were cool, so putting them together just made sense.

Trout had purchased these robots from the firm Freddy Fazbear's parent company, Animatronics Limited, competed the most with: New Wave Robotics. They had promised a new breed of intelligent animatronics, boasting about how they had finally figured out how to make them talk to the audience. And they were expensive.

Trout witnessed a demonstration, and was impressed that there was only a several second long pause between asking a question and getting an appropriate response. That was until their head mechanic spoke up.

His name was Nathan Grymes, and he didn't really speak up as oppose to laugh. He explained that he had worked for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for years, working until the company was forced to drop him in 1987, and that these "buckets of bolts" were nothing compared to Fazbear's. Trout remembered the conversation he had had.

"Is that so, Mr. Grymes?" Trout asked. Nathan nodded.

"Yup. They could answer any question, conduct games and stuff, and with no long pauses. They were the best," the mechanic had said, eyes staring off into the memory, "They're probably all run down now, I couldn't bear to see 'em now after leaving town to work for you."

"And what made them so special?" the technician New Wave sent demanded sourly.

"Sorry. Swore to never tell. Trade secret," Nathan replied, grinning smugly at the New Wave technician.

"Well, I suppose we'd just have to buy these animatronics," Trout said, and Nathan looked at him.

"Oh, come on, they'd never sell them to you. And besides, they wouldn't want to go," Nathan told Trout.

"Who? The animatronics?" Trout, asked, and laughed, "They're machines, Mr. Grymes, and put your previous employer loyalty aside. You work for me now. Now fix that little wiring issue with Maxwell."

Nathan grumbled, and did what was he was told, climbing up onto the large stage. That was the rule: everything just like Freddy's, but bigger. Scope was what Trout thought doomed Freddy's, that they just didn't take things far enough. So Trout ordered a bigger building, bigger pizzas, bigger menus, bigger tables, et cetera and et cetera. The only thing that wasn't bigger than Fazbear's was the animatronic count.

Trout wanted four, but the New Wave techs were only able to construct three in the timeslot they had been given. That was the reason for Trout to be so adamant about getting a Fazbear animatronic: it would add to the cast, and provide valuable technical knowledge to be able to construct replicas. This was also why he was so frustrated by his offer of buying one to be refused, just as Nathan said it would. He would need another plan.

* * *

><p>Hearing Mike snoring faintly from his bedroom, Foxy crept as quietly as he could through the front door of Mike's apartment, first sticking his head out to make sure the coast was clear. Satisfied, the fox strode out into the hall, going three doors down and to the left, in front of apartment 207. He raised his good hand and knocked five times in a quick staccato rhythm, and the door quickly opened.<p>

"Were you followed?" the resident asked, looking past Foxy and into the hall.

"O'course no'," Foxy replied, and stepped inside, the resident closing the door behind him.

"So," Foxy said, "How are ye, lass?"

"Fine," replied the resident, a seven year old girl by the name of Lindsay. She and Foxy met three days ago, quickly becoming friends. Lindsay lived with her single father, her mother having been killed in a car accident when she was just a baby. Her father worked long hours during the day, so when Lindsay had the day off, she was typically by herself. Except now, with Foxy visiting her every day while Mike was still asleep.

"Wha' do ye wan' ta do today?" Foxy asked eagerly, "Pirates?"

Lindsay giggled.

"You always say that," She told the fox.

"O'course lass, I _am_ a pirate!" Foxy said proudly.

This exchange had become commonplace between the two.

"Let's play hide and seek again. You hide first," Lindsay said.

"Alrigh'. Get ta countin'" Foxy ordered, smiling, and as soon as Lindsay closed her eyes, he searched around, looking for a place to hide. He quickly snuck into the bathroom, stepping into the shower and closing the curtains. The fox actually stood taller than the curtain rod, and bent his knees to settle behind it.

From the bathroom, Foxy could hear Lindsay finish counting, and shout

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Foxy stuck his head out between the curtains, listening intently for a sign for where the girl could be. He heard a closet door open and shut, and bare footsteps slapping loudly against the tile floor of the kitchen. She was getting closer.

Withdrawing back into the curtains, Foxy stood stock-still. A minute later, the curtains were yanked open, and Lindsay squealed in accomplishment.

"I found you! Ha!" she cheered.

"Aye, lass, good job," Foxy praised, chuckling as he stepped out of the shower, metal feet leaving occasional tiny scrapes on the tile and wood floor, and he returned to the living room. Lindsay never questioned his obvious metal construction, and Foxy wasn't sure if that was because she didn't understand what he was, or didn't care. Either way, it didn't matter, Foxy was happy to find a new matey that didn't find him intimidating.

"Okay, now you count. And no cheating!" Lindsay ordered, pointing a finger for emphasis.

"Wouldn' dream o' it, lass," Foxy assured, and closed his eyes, beginning to count to ten. He could hear the girl scamper away.

Upon reaching ten, Foxy opened his eyes and searched around the room he was in. No sign of Lindsay. Foxy walked into the kitchen and began to open up some of the cupboards. Yesterday, Lindsay had genuinely confused the pirate captain by managing to squeeze herself into the large pantry, and he had searched the small spaces in the kitchen ever since.

Finding nothing, the search continued into Lindsay's bedroom, checking the most obvious spot first: under the bed. Foxy actually lost his balance trying to slowly lower himself, and fell with a small crash of metal. He heard giggling from the closet as he awkwardly stood up, and could see the door quickly shut.

Now knowing where his quarry was, the fox decided to have a little bit of fun. He feigned being completely confused, and began to search around the room, listening closely for Lindsay's reaction. Foxy heard her smother a laugh when he looked into a small pot that sat on her windowsill, and acted generally dismayed upon finding it empty.

After a few more impossible hiding spots were searched, Foxy suddenly raised his hook up, shouting "Aha!" and turning for the closet. He pulled the door open to reveal Lindsay sitting on a pile of dirty clothes.

"Got ye!" Foxy said, carrying her out of the closet. Lindsay squealed as she was spun around and deposited on her bed.

"Wha' do ye wan' ta do now?" Foxy asked, but he was interrupted when he heard Mike's voice faintly from out in the hall.

"Blast! He's awake!" Foxy said, and walked to the front door, putting his ear to it. He heard rapid footsteps up and down the hall, and could hear Mike calling out his name. Lindsay walked up to him and put her ear to the door also. She frowned when Mike called out Foxy's name again.

"Who's that?" the girl asked.

"Tha' be Mike," Foxy said, rolling his eyes as the guard became more frantic, "I best be shovin' off now, lass. 'Till tomorrow."

"Okay," Lindsay said sadly, and Foxy opened the door, stepping out right in front of Mike, who skidded to a halt to avoid crashing into him.

"There you are! What are you doing? What if someone's see you?" Mike scolded, and Foxy rolled his eyes.

"Aye, aye, I know. Yer not makin' it better by screamin' yer head off," Foxy replied, and headed back to Mike's apartment. Mike sighed, and followed.

"What were you doing in there?" Mike asked, worried.

"I was playin' with Lindsay," Foxy replied matter-of-fact.

Mike's brow furrowed.

"Lindsay? What about her dad?" Mike asked, remembering the family.

"He be away durin' tha day," Foxy explained.

"And she's okay with… you know…" Mike started awkwardly, and Foxy narrowed his eyes.

"Wha'? Me bein' made o' metal? She don' care," Foxy said.

"Okay, that's good. You know you're not supposed to do that, right?" Mike asked.

"Aye," Foxy replied flatly, and turned away, deciding to watch television.

Mike sighed, and walked back into his bedroom to try and get more sleep. He had work that night, after all.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: Finally, after months, years, decades, EONS of waiting (it feels), welcome to Night Five! The final night!**_

_**Of the work week. Also of the main game's canon. Not this story, though. Why'd you think that? So, yeah… Oh, so, the winners of the contest! Give me a drum roll, readers' imagination!**_

_**-drum roll-**_

_** For the character of Baron von Pizzä, that goes to my good friend, KamikazeRebel (kinda bullshit, since he's my best friend, but screw it, I liked the character). I also have him to thank for a majority of what this story will become, since he helped me IMMENSELY with ideas of where to take the plot (he's entirely responsible for the creation of Pizza Baron). **_

_** For the character of Maxwell Circuit, a.k.a. "Spark Bark" (that'll make sense later), congratulations to PersonalitySoup**_

_** And last but not least, congratulations to prime12 for the character of Drake the Dragon. **_

_** Thank you to everyone who submitted an original character, I believe I was able to get back to all of you. I regret not being able to use all of the ideas I received, but that would be impossible for me to write. I was blown away by how many people wanted to be a part of this, and it was really difficult to essentially look at they're idea, shake my head, and say "nope, not you." I cried. On the inside. Really, really, deep inside. Like, slightly to the left of my spleen. **_

_** I'm excited to also say that several people have linked to my writer's page and otherwise have given me a shout out on places like they're deviantART posts, Tumbler, FanFiction, and others. Thank you, that's really kind of y'all. **_

_**I know I say it a lot, but that's because I mean it: I'm incredibly lucky to have readers like you. It's because of you guys that we made it to Night Five, and will go beyond it. Thank you all so much for your support, and I can't wait for the future of my series, and other stuff I'll do. I'm planning on compiling all my stories, editing them for consistency and grammar, and posting them as one giant story that people can read in one sitting. But, we'll have to finish the Just Another Night series first. And who knows, maybe it won't be the end….(this is too many periods)….**_

_**So, yep, thanks as always for reading, and have a good one! –DeltaV, "I spell "subtle" like *****__**SUBTLE**__*****"**_


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One: Being Watched

Mike eased the rented moving truck into the parking lot of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, still not used to driving the large vehicle. He parked with the back facing the entrance, and the cargo door opened the instant the truck came to a halt, Foxy stepping out of it. The truck rocked a bit, relieved of its heavy load.

Climbing out of the cab, Mike watched as Foxy stood outside of the main entrance, arms crossed, waiting for it to be midnight. It had been discovered that the programming forcing them to become immobile was context sensitive. They had to be inside the pizzeria for it to take effect, and presumably this was the case so that the animatronics would still be able to function if they were ever taken out of the restaurant. In the case of Foxy being ferried about, it meant that he had to wait for the clock to strike twelve before he could join the others.

Mike's watch beeped and he unlocked the front entrance. Foxy strode inside, heading for the Show Stage, while the guard stayed behind to lock the doors again. As soon as he did so, he too headed for the Dining Hall to catch up with the others, not noticing a dark blue SUV pull into the parking lot with its headlights off.

* * *

><p>Inside that SUV was Christina Lambert, a professional thief hired by Trout Entertainment to try and get their hands on a Fazbear animatronic in case a sales deal fell through. Clearly, it had, and she had been told to wait until midnight to break in, since that would guarantee nobody would be around. Then she noticed the moving truck, and climbed out of her vehicle to investigate.<p>

The hood was still warm, indicating that the engine had been running not too long ago. A quick, cautious walk-around showed nothing out of the ordinary, except for a small dent and scratch marks on the cargo door, right around the release mechanism.

_Probably closed it on something_, Christina thought, and backed away from the truck. If someone was here, then she could get caught, and that would not make Trout happy. This would have to wait for a better opportunity. Lambert climbed back into her SUV and pulled out onto the main street, heading for the shopping complex across the street in order to watch the front unnoticed. Hopefully, whoever was using that truck would leave soon.

* * *

><p>Back inside the pizzeria, Foxy was filling the others in about what he got up to in the outside world, mainly stories about Lindsay. Mike spoke up<p>

"When did you start spending time over there? Just today?" Mike asked, afraid Foxy was risking getting seen.

"I be visitin' tha lass fer abou' three days now," Foxy replied. Mike's eyes widened.

"Three days!? You've been sneaking out for _three days!?_" Mike exclaimed, "What happens if someone sees you? Then what?"

Foxy rolled his eyes.

"Relax, lad, I be inside tha whole time, don' ye worry. Nobody's seen me. Well, 'cept for tha' one lass," Foxy added, scratching the side of his head in thought.

Mike groaned.

"Great. Just great. Why can't you just stay in my apartment?" Mike asked pleadingly.

"'Cause there ain't much ta do 'cept stare at tha' box," Foxy replied. At this, Freddy stepped in.

"Foxy, you know you can't be wandering around. Remember the last time? You're taking a pretty big risk. What if something happens while Michael's asleep, and he can't help you?" Freddy pointed out.

Foxy crossed his arms.

"I can handle meself," he defended.

"Oh really? Like you handled yourself with Caleb's family?" Freddy reminded, crossing his arms as well.

Foxy uncrossed his arms and looked down, scuffing his feet on the floor.

"Well…" he began, but didn't finish his thought.

"All we're saying is be careful, okay? Don't take unnecessary risks," Freddy told the fox in a much more comforting tone.

A silence hung for a moment, until Chica spoke up.

"So… What's the deal with this Lindsay?" she asked, "She nice?" Foxy perked up.

"Aye, she be a good lass. I remember when we first met!" Foxy replied.

* * *

><p>It was Foxy's second full day living with Mike, and just like the day before, he was extremely bored. Television only provided a temporary interest, usually when the colorful show about pirates was on in the morning. Mike slept hard, tired out from essentially working two jobs. An alarm woke him today, however, and he sleepily climbed out of bed, still in his security officer uniform, and staggered into the living roomkitchen.

Foxy was standing in the middle of the room, completely absorbed by the pirate cartoon, and Mike started upon seeing him.

"Oh, right, you're here," Mike said, voice heavy with sleep. Foxy nodded, gaze not leaving the television's screen. Mike grabbed a piece of bread, the plan to make toast, but didn't follow through, instead just chewing the bare slice absent mindedly while walking back into his room. Soon, Foxy could hear the shower turn on, then off, and after a short while Mike walked back into the living room, wearing a polo shirt with a nametag stuck to the front of it.

"Foxy?" Mike asked, but the fox's attention remained on the show. Mike waved his hand in front of Foxy's eyes, and he snapped his head to face him.

"Wha'?" Foxy asked.

"I need to go to my other job, so you're," Mike sighed, "on your own. I'm trusting you here, just… be good, okay?"

"Alrigh', don' worry 'bout Ol' Foxy," Foxy assured, turning back to the television. Mike watched him for another minute before exiting the apartment and heading for work.

The instant the door shut, Foxy turned off the television and put his ear to the front door, listening to Mike's retreating footsteps. After waiting another several minutes to be absolutely sure no one was around, Foxy eased the front door open, poking his head out and looking left and right. The hallway was empty. Confident he wouldn't be seen, Foxy opened the door all the way and stepped out into the hall. At least now he could explore the building.

Heading to the right, the pirate captain hummed a song to himself as he walked, looking around at the different doors with interest. Soon, the hallway ended in a stairwell, with steps leading both up and down. Deciding that he could explore the different floors later, Foxy turned around and headed the other way.

He walked just to pass the time and keep his joints loose. The stone floor made his clanking steps echo slightly, and it started to concern the fox that someone might hear him. As he kept walking, faint sounds of conversation caught his interest. It seemed to be coming from one of the doors.

Putting his ear to it, he could hear the voices of a man and a woman .

"Hey, so, did you hear about that fire the other day?" the woman asked.

"No, where was it?" the man asked.

"Apparently at that Freddy's place," the woman replied, "With those robots?"

"Oh, yeah, my cousin took his kid there for his birthday a while back. Kinda dingy, ain't it?" the man commented.

Foxy scoffed. _Whatever_, he thought.

"Can you blame them? Remember when those children were killed?" the woman asked, "I heard one of their robots malfunctioned, bit all their heads right off!"

Foxy froze, and narrowed his eyes. That wasn't what happened at all!

"Jeez, Mary, that's kinda graphic, don't you think?" the man said, disgust evident in his voice.

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I heard," Mary replied, and the topic changed to some sporting event. Foxy kept listening, still intrigued, until a small voice spoke up right next to him.

"What are you doing?" the voice asked, and Foxy's head snapped to face it. It belonged to a young girl, quite possibly nine or ten. Foxy's mouth opened in a broad smile.

"Ahoy there, lassie! I jus' be listenin' to these lubbers ta pass tha time," Foxy explained, standing up. The girl sized him up, taking in his eye patch and hook hand.

"Are you some sort of costume?" she asked. Foxy shook his head.

"No, lass, I be Cap'n Foxy! Wha's yer name?" Foxy replied, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm Lindsay. Want to play?" Lindsay replied. Foxy nodded eagerly.

"Aye, lass, tha' sounds like a fine idea that does. Wha' would ya like ta do?" Foxy asked, putting his hand and hook on his hips.

Lindsay's brow furrowed in deep thought.

"I dunno. Want to come over to my house?" she asked, "We'll decide there."

"Okay, Lindsay. Lead on!" Foxy said, gesturing with his hook. If the girl was intimidated by Foxy's size and exposed metal, she didn't show it.

The pair went several doors down, passing Mike's apartment and stopping in front of door 207. Lindsay had left the door adjar, and pushed it open with a hand. Foxy ducked slightly under the door jam and followed her inside. The living room was much more decorated than Mike's, sporting a few paintings on the walls and trinkets on the tables and shelves. The television was also bigger, from what Foxy could see. What the fox didn't see, however, were Lindsay's parents.

"Where be yer parent's, lass?" Foxy asked, concerned.

"My dad's at work, he's real busy, and my mom's not around anymore," Lindsay replied, kicking off her shoes and socks. She turned to face the pirate, "Why are you metal?"

Foxy was a little bit taken aback by the question, but smiled.

"I be an animatronic," he answered.

"Huh?" Lindsay asked.

"A robot" Foxy clarified, making sure to pronounce the "t."

"Cool," Lindsay replied simply, "Want to play hide and seek?"

"Sure, why no'?" Foxy said, smile getting larger by the second.

* * *

><p>"She never asked why you were a robot?" Chica asked incredulously.<p>

"Aye, tha's tha stranges' thing," Foxy replied, "Never brough' it up."

"Just be careful not to scare her too much," Bonnie advised, slightly jealous of Foxy's new friend, but happy for him.

"I won', believe me. No' makin' tha' mistake again," Foxy assured.

* * *

><p>Back out in the parking lot across the street from the restaurant, Christina Lambert groaned from her position in the driver's seat. She had been sitting there for hours, and nothing had so much moved inside the pizzeria. Sunlight was starting to just barely peek over the horizon, and Christian swore. She had lost her window, and would certainly be caught trying to get in now.<p>

Jamming the SUV into gear, she angrily pulled out onto the main road, turning the headlights back on. Figures the first night she picked had company. Maybe she would have a better opportunity tomorrow night. But first she had to call Trout.

* * *

><p>Nathan sighed as he stepped through the entrance to Pizza Baron. Opening day was now just over a week away, and Trout had wanted thorough testing of his animatronics. One of the most difficult was Maxwell Circuit, the robotic wolf-dog. New Wave Robotics left all sorts of wiring issues, apparently having to rush production on Maxwell in order to meet their deadline, and now it was up to Nathan to sort it out. But it seemed like every time he fixed one problem, another sprung up somewhere else. He opened a hatch on the wolf-dog's back, checking the issue he fixed last night for any mistakes.<p>

Finding nothing, he booted Maxwell up, loading up a portion of his show.

"Hey! Wanna hear me play an awesome piece on my keytar?" Maxwell asked the empty audience in a youthful, slightly high-pitched voice. He then began to move his hands furiously over his instrument, no sound coming out except for the repeated clicking of Maxwell and the keys of the keytar. Nathan halted Maxwell's movements, and triggered on his "intelligence mode," as New Wave dubbed it, where he could answer questions and interact more with the audience. His head swiveled around, searching around the empty dining hall. Nathan jumped off the stage and sat in his seat, raising his hand. This was the cue for the animatronics.

"You! In the ball cap!" Maxwell said after a short delay.

"How's it going?" Nathan yelled over, and there was a short pause as Maxwell thought the question over.

"I'm great! How are you-you-you-you-," Maxwell stuttered, and a large amount of sparks arced out of his mouth, and he shorted out, failsafe kicking in to prevent any damage to his CPU.

"Son of a bitch!" Nathan swore, and climbed onstage, "Hell of a spark bark there, bud. Hey… Not a bad nickname, don't ya think?"

The animatronic didn't reply.

"Right…" Nathan said, but loaded the name recognition anyway and fixed the exposed wiring, and powered Maxwell back on again. The mechanic climbed back down, sitting in the chair and raising his hand again.

"You! In the ball cap!" Maxwell said, pointing at Nathan.

"What's your nickname?" Nathan asked, and again Maxwell paused for a few seconds.

"Most call me 'Spark Bark!'" Maxwell said happily, and Nathan grinned. Not too bad a nickname indeed.

_** A/N: It's midnight as of this note, and I'm going to sleep now. Learned a little bit more of what Foxy does when he's unsupervised, and learned a little bit more about one of the OCs. Much more information on Pizza Baron will be shown later, but here's a little taste for now. And yes, that is the same Nathan that worked for Freddy's about 10 years ago (this story is set in the early 2000s, if it wasn't all that clear before), and Nathan was in his late 20s when he worked for the pizzeria we all know and love. Oh, and there's this animation called "Foxy Gets Hooked" on YouTube, and it's pretty cool. It's just a trailer right now, but looks like it'll be fun. Thanks to Kingdom Infinity for telling me about it. Thanks for reading, and reviewing if you're gonna do that. Nothing much else to report, so 'till next time! –DeltaV "Sleep is for the WEAK." **_


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter 2: Power Failure

One day after fixing Maxwell's faulty wiring, Nathan was called back into Pizza Baron to help with a demonstration for Damon Trout's approval. With opening day drawing ever closer, the staff was hard-pressed to have everything perfect. As the Dining Hall of Pizza Baron slowly filled with both investors and other representatives from Trout Entertainment, the veteran mechanic performed last-minute checks of all the systems. Everything seemed in working order, and he gave the New Wave representative a thumbs up.

"Looks good, let's put on a show!" Nathan said, and exited the stage into the Dining Hall, sitting away from the other people present.

The house lights dimmed, and merry polka music began to play out of the speakers, a recorded voice speaking over it.

"Alright boys and girls, you know what time it is! Say hello to the Pizza Baron Band!" the voice boomed, and the curtains rose to reveal three animatronics standing onstage, each with a sort of themed backdrop behind them.

In the center was, of course, Baron von Pizzä, or simply "von Pizzä" or "the Baron", the restaurant's main mascot. He resembled a German shepherd dressed in lederhosen and a Bavarian country-style hat, carrying an accordion. Nathan shook his head, never entirely approving of such a stereotypical character. His small themed area surrounding him resembled something straight out of _The Sound of Music_, but he spoke with a voice full of authority.

"Guten tag, and welcome, everyone, to Pizza Baron!" von Pizzä said, his voice carrying a slight German accent, "I do hope you all have had a wonderful time so far! Isn't that right, Sir Drake?"

Sir Drake the Dragon was, well, a dragon. His scales were green, and he stood a good head taller than the Baron, and wore a medieval knight chestplate, upon which the Pizza Baron logo was painted, and a knight's helmet. The helmet's visor was currently up, and he held on to a long trumpet which had a banner hanging off of it, also sporting the restaurant's logo.

"Yea, methinks thou lords and ladies shall haveth the most wondrous of times!" Drake agreed. The dragon's position on stage was elevated, giving the appearance of being on top of a castle tower, and could be shown independent of the rest of the stage for his little sideshows.

"Totally!" Maxwell Circuit, or rather, "Spark Bark", said, "I can't wait to play an awesome solo on my keytar!" Maxwell's little themed surroundings resembled a sort of stage-within-a-stage, almost as if he was playing at what Pizza Baron would consider "the hottest club in town, yo." Clearly this was done to gain the entrance of his targeted audience of older children, closer to middle school age.

Baron von Pizzä spoke up once more.

"Now now, Maxwell, all in due time! We still have a whole show to do! Come on, everyone!" he said.

The music could be classified as… "interesting." The odd complement of instruments (the Baron's accordion, Maxwell's keytar, and Drake's trumpet) produced an odd mixture of sounds, and supporting instruments were played via recordings. Technically, the only instrument that actually worked was Maxwell's keytar, and he was the only animatronic capable of actually playing anything on it. This was done by New Wave as yet another showcase of their "top of the line technology."

And then there were the song choices. As opposed to several original songs like Freddy's, the Pizza Baron Band sang songs that were believed to be popular (and relevant) with kids at the time. The lyrics weren't changed, either, and instead just synthesized with the character's voices and instruments. Nathan could at least appreciate an updated library, as opposed to the Fazbear band, whose songs haven't been changed since the 1980s.

In between songs, the act could be summarized quite easily: Maxwell or Drake would go off on some sort of tangent, or tell some sort of joke, and the Baron would reel them back to begin the next musical number, possibly to teach some sort of moral based on whatever the others said. For example, after the first song, Maxwell's part of the stage was lit up.

"Hey! You guys wanna hear me play an awesome piece on my keytar?" Maxwell asked the audience of investors and workers. An audible click was heard as his CPU changed gears to listen and think up a response. The group in the hall sat in uncomfortable silence as the question hung longer and longer. Another click was heard.

"No? Well, I'll play one anyway!" Maxwell announced, and the hall was filled with rapid keytar notes as the wolf-dog broke into a lengthy solo. And kept playing. And kept playing. Drake raised his trumpet and "blew" a loud note, interrupting Maxwell.

"I say, thoust hast blessed us with thou's most terrible noise long enough!" Drake shouted over, the interruption entirely scripted.

"C'mon tin head, lighten up!" Maxwell replied, and began to play a few more notes.

"Thou shall stop or face me in a duel!" Drake replied, his knight helmet visor lowering as he raised his sword.

"Come now, Spark, Sir Drake, you cannot use violence to solve your disputes!" Baron von Pizzä said, his part of the stage lighting up, "Why don't we continue on with the next song?"

"Yeah!" Maxwell agreed, and Drake nodded, visor raising again.

"Yea, let us begin!" Drake said, and the next song began.

The stage show followed this same formula for several more numbers, the only real problems being the interactive portions, as none of the audience members felt compelled to speak up. Finally, the end was finally reached.

"Boys and girls, thank you for watching our show, and we hope you have a wonderful rest of your day at Pizza Baron! Remember look in the gift shop on your way out, and pick up a little memory of your time with us! Auf Wiedersehen!" the Baron said, raising a hand in farewell.

"Yeah, I had lots of fun! Come back and see us again!" Maxwell called out happily, waving an arm.

"May good fortune find you all!" Drake added, putting an arm across his chest.

The lights dimmed, the music faded, and the curtain on the stage lowered. The New Wave Robotics representatives applauded and cheered, immediately starting to congratulate each other on their successes. Trout and his investors did not, instead talking in deep, serious tones. Nathan, on the other hand, sighed, remembering the shows of the Fazbear robots.

Yes, they were scripted too, but the animatronics decided the order of the songs, and adapted to their audiences. Compared to that, the Pizza Baron band just felt so… robotic, ironically. Nathan only half expected them to wander around the restaurant, but they hardly even walked around onstage! He assumed that New Wave hadn't quite figured out how to do that yet. The thought made him chuckle.

_And they're so proud of 'em, too,_ the mechanic thought, _Maybe I should visit the old place, see what's changed._ Nathan was about to get up to go do just that, but Trout waved him over.

"Grymes! Get over here!" Trout ordered. Nathan sighed and walked up to him.

"What?" Nathan asked.

"I need your opinion. Our animatronics, they're better than Freddy's, yes? More… advanced?" Trout asked, studying Nathan's face for a reaction.

_Hell no,_ Nathan thought.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Nathan lied, struggling to keep a straight face, "I mean, Animatronics Limited only had technology from the _Eighties_ to work with, so yes, I'd say they're more advanced." _And a bitch and a half to maintain. _

Trout raised an eyebrow, suspicious, but nodded.

"If you say so, Grymes, if you say so," Trout told him, "Go talk with those New Wave techs, they have a job for you."

"Actually I was hoping for the rest of the day off, to celebrate," Nathan said, crossing his arms. Trout looked at him and smiled.

"If you hurry, you can get the evening free. Work comes first, Grymes," Trout reminded, and turned back to the suits he had been talking to.

Nathan put his right hand in his pocket and flipped a hidden middle finger at Trout, and turned to the stage.

"Dick," he muttered.

Later that night at Freddy's, Mike was growing concerned about Foxy. He seemed slower, less interested in what was going on, and had started to ignore most of what Mike said, except for commands. Fearing he might be starting to get depressed again, the guard shared his concern with Freddy.

"You don't think he's sad, do you?" Mike asked the bear, who was straightening chairs and tables as usual.

"Well, we can't completely ignore that option, but if you ask me, he seems tired," Freddy replied, nudging a party hat so it was lined up straighter.

"Tired? I thought you didn't get tired," Mike questioned, looking quizzically at Freddy.

The bear looked up with a small smile.

"Figure of speech, Michael. I mean to say he's just running out of power. We can only go for so long," Freddy explained, and began pressing wrinkles out of the faded tablecloth.

"Aren't you worried he'll just… quit? How can I charge him back up?" Mike asked.

"Relax, we have reserves in case of a power failure, that'll last him long enough," Freddy said, "They can't keep the Cove closed too much longer."

"Alright, if you say so," Mike said, and began helping the bear organize the tables.

Most of the night was spent pretty normally, although Foxy was much less intrusive, plodding along at a slow pace and looking around with unfocused eyes. He never said anything, and only responded to simple questions. As it got closer and closer to six, Mike began to notice Foxy hadn't moved in a while. He walked up to the fox, noticing that his eyes were dark.

"Foxy?" Mike asked, and waved his hand in front of his face, "Foxy?"

Foxy didn't move.

"Freddy!" Mike called, and the bear came over, Bonnie following him.

"Yes, Michael?" Freddy asked, and looked at Foxy's unmoving form, "Oh dear. Looks like he was using the reserves."

Mike threw up his hands.

"Great, now how am I going to get him home?" Mike asked.

"There's a hand cart thing Backstage, they use it to move big boxes and stuff," Bonnie suggested.

"Good idea, I'll be right back," Mike said, and jogged backstage.

The hand cart sat in a corner near the suit rack, Mike flicking on the bare bulb hanging in the room to find it. He wheeled it out to the others.

By now, Chica had noticed too, and was shaking her head slowly, chuckling slightly to herself.

"Foxy. Foxy, Foxy, Foxy… Ya always gotta start something, huh?" Chica said to the powered of fox.

"Shut up and help me get him on here," Mike said, unable to lift the robot by himself. Bonnie and Chica set him onto the hand cart, and were about to start wheeling him outside when Mike's watch alarm rang.

"Shit, you guys need to get back in place," Mike said, checking his watch.

"What about dead weight here?" Chica asked, gesturing to Foxy.

"I'll figure it out, just get to places before you lock up," Mike ordered, and the animatronics nodded, heading for the Show Stage.

Mike stared at Foxy and scratched his chin. Deciding to just muscle it, he slowly leaned the hand cart back, and soon began gasping at the effort. The hand cart added much needed leverage, but if he didn't get to the truck soon, Mike wouldn't be getting Foxy out.

Going as quick as he could, he pushed the cart through the entrance and stood it up behind the waiting truck. Thankfully, this particular truck came with a small lift for really heavy objects, so Mike opened the cargo door and walked around to the cab, starting the engine, and looked up when he saw a dark blue SUV tear into the parking lot.

Christina finally got her opportunity, seeing what appeared to be an employee loading what had to be an animatronic into the back of the moving truck. As soon as the man climbed into the cab and started the engine, she was already rolling.

Cranking the steering wheel hard to the right, she blocked the truck's path, screeching to a halt. Grabbing her handgun out of a black duffel bag, Christina jumped out and aimed it at the man in the cab.

"Alright, don't try shit!" she yelled.

"Holy fuck!" Mike yelled, and ducked down under the dash, searching desperately for something he could use as a weapon, and checked the glovebox. It was locked, and the lock didn't match the keys he had. Shifting himself around, he gave it four hard kicks, and it broke open.

"What the…?" Mike said to himself as he reached in and pulled out a small revolver. Fumbling it around in his hands, he managed to swing the cylinder out from the frame, revealing that the gun was disappointingly empty. A quick search of the glovebox yielded no ammunition. Mike put the gun back, peeked over the dash, and raised his hands.

"Out. Now," the woman ordered, still aiming. Mike complied, keeping his hands raised. The woman walked around the truck towards the back, still keeping the barrel of her pistol pointed at the guard. She quickly gestured to Foxy.

"Load it," she ordered, and Mike stared at her quizzically. The woman pulled the hammer of her weapon back.

"_Load it,_" she repeated, and Mike did so, straining to get Foxy rolled onto the small lift.

Hitting the power button, Mike and Foxy were slowly lifted up to be level with the cargo bay. Once level, Mike wheeled the cart in and used rope to attach it to the tie-downs mounted on the walls. Also in the cargo bay was a small crowbar, probably used by previous renters for crates they'd move. Mike eyed it, and glanced at the woman, weighing his odds. _Be brave for a day, the run like Hell,_ Mike thought.

A passing car distracted the thief, and Mike made his move. Scooping up the crowbar, charged her. She noticed, and pulled the cargo door shut as quick as she could. Mike was faster, using his arms to keep the door from closing. He cried out as the door slammed into him, but swung out as hard as he could with the crowbar.

He felt it connect, and the woman curse, before it was torn from his hands. The barrel of the handgun appeared in the gap, and Mike backed off, being engulfed by darkness as the cargo door closed all the way. He heard it lock, and the lift get returned to its original position. Then the truck began to move, and Mike pounded hard on the door. There was a bump as the SUV was pushed out of the way.

"Hey! Let me the fuck outta here! You are _not _going to be happy when your turn him on!" Mike threatened, but the woman didn't reply. Mike sighed. Where the hell were they going?

_**A/N: Things! Excitement! Mike growing a pair! I figured that after all the times he's stuck it out through the animatronic onslaught early on, he should at least not be too phased by someone pointing a gun at him. He's been close to death before. **_

_**To PersonalitySoup, prime12, and not you Kamikaze, since we talked, how'd I do? Do you like the characters? I hope so, so get back to me with your thoughts. Same goes for everyone else too, what do you guys think of Pizza Baron? Trout's sure an asshole, isn't he? And I guess you can see where Nathan's allegiance lies, too. **_

_**As always, thanks for reading, I do hope you continue to enjoy, and have a good one! –DeltaV "That moving truck was owned by the Mob. Yeah, that's make sense." **_


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter 3: An Irate Pirate

Nathan practically threw the door open, muttering a slew of curses under his breath. He had been woken up by his phone at around 5:30 in the morning by one of Trout's assistants demanding the mechanic's presence at Pizza Baron. He had already spent most of the previous evening tweaking around the Pizza Baron Band's character programming, the investors none too pleased at what was simply a bland show. That made Nathan furious. Why did he have to do it? There were at least seven technical advisors from New Wave Robotics, and their own mechanics, make them do it!

These thoughts occupied his mind as he made the drive from the small house Trout had set him up with when he took the job. Nathan moved away from the city looking for work, taking on jobs for amusement parks and other restaurants, the work history at Freddy's going from a gleam of pride to a dirty smudge that more often than not ruined his chance of being hired. Then Trout Entertainment picked him up, and he moved back.

Nathan could hear a loud argument carry from the backstage area, probably having to do with the large rent-a-truck outside. He was not prepared for the scene he walked in on.

It was Foxy, no denying it, and he was surrounded by New Wave technicians, all examining his robotic endoskeleton from access hatches, and to Nathan's horror, tears in the suit. The fox's legs were bare metal, the suit torn away to show the metal skeleton underneath, the same as his left, or "good" hand. A large tear was also present on the front of his torso, as wells as a few scratches on Foxy's arms, and his bottom jaw hung limply. At least his eye patch and hook were still attached.

The other interesting character was a man dressed in a dark blue uniform, wearing a ball cap labeled "Security." He was tied up, and shouted curses, insults, and warnings to the techs currently swarming over the animatronic.

"You bastards! Leave him alone! Oh, you're so _dead_ once you turn him on!" the man said, thrashing against his binds. They met eyes, and the man glared. Nathan frowned back, and walked over.

"Who the hell are you?" Nathan asked, "The shit you tied up for?"

"Why the fuck you think?" the man asked, gesturing with his whole body towards Foxy. Nathan looked at the fox, then back to the man.

"You work for Freddy's?" Nathan asked, raising his eyebrows. The man snorted.

"Yeah, you might say I'm the _security_ guard!" he replied sarcastically.

Nathan chuckled, and sat down next to him, watching the scene as well. He stuck out a hand.

"Nathan Grymes. I was their mechanic back in the day. God, the place _really _went downhill. Poor Foxy, he always had it roughest," Nathan said. The man stared at the hand, then at Nathan.

"I'm a little tied up… Wait, you knew these guys?" the man asked, surprised. Nathan nodded.

"For nearly five years, every night. Weird I know, but I got… _attached _to them. They had… personality, and some unique programming that-," Nathan began.

"Cut the crap, I know," the man replied, "I'm Mike, Mike Schmidt, security guard." Mike raised his foot in a handshake like gesture, and Nathan shook it, grinning.

"I can't believe they sold him," Nathan said, shaking his head. Mike grunted in anger.

"They _didn't_. They stole him," Mike told the mechanic, glaring daggers at the technicians.

"What?" Nathan asked, standing up, but just then, the door opened and Trout entered. He spotted Nathan, and walked over.

"Ah, Mr. Grymes, thank you for making it," Trout said hollowly, then looked down at Mike, "Who are you? Christina, who is this? I thought you said it went smoothly."

Christina walked up behind Trout, arms crossed.

"Loose end. He's the only witness, was moving the animatronic at the time," Christina explained, "I voted to kill him, but you know how that goes."

"Yes, yes, so much paperwork," Trout replied, waving his hand dismissively, "Well, keep him here for now, but we'll have to figure out a long term solution. We'll discuss your… tactics later." Trout turned back to Nathan.

"Well, as you can probably see, we've managed to… procure a Fazbear animatronic, but according to our friend here," Trout nudged Mike with his foot. Mike called him an asshole, "Its power supply has run dry. Without that CPU being powered, my technicians can't study his programming, as the technology is severely outdated. Get to work." With that, Trout turned and walked out, the technicians begrudgingly following, leaving Nathan and Mike alone. Mike whistled.

"And I thought Arianna was a bitch," Mike said, shifting to a more comfortable position. Nathan nodded.

"Yeah, he's something else. Pretty hands-on for a CEO, don't you think?" Nathan replied, and walked over to the deactivated Foxy, opening the back of his head. Mike struggled to watch.

"So what's up? He gonna be okay?" Mike asked, voice full of concern.

"Yep. These guys store their charge in a capacitor, with a restrictor to limit the voltage output so they don't waste anything. They last for a while, but after some issues early on we gave 'em their backups," Nathan explained, and pulled out a large black box coated with dust and battery acid, "But clearly they haven't been replaced."

"Is that a car battery?" Mike asked, reading the words _Duralast _printed on a faded label on the side.

"Technically they're for electric lawn mowers. Car battery is way too big," Nathan replied matter-of-fact, "We charged them wirelessly, with radio charging. They got a sort of antenna system worked into their legs, and they point down. Basically means they can draw power from any running current. Under the stages are massive coils of wire, and if they stand there, they charge in just a few hours. Am I going too fast?" Mike eyes had started to lose focus as the information overwhelmed him.

"No, no, I think I get it," Mike replied, shifting again. Nathan nodded slowly.

"Right… Anyway, that charge method uses up a metric ass ton of power, as you can imagine. We'll have to do it the hard way here, and run a cable. Not enough ambient currents," Nathan rubbed his hand over his face, "Christ, I'm gonna have to jury rig it. Sorry Foxy."

Nathan began to disassemble small pieces of Foxy's legs, finding the charging conduits just inside. The mechanic quickly grabbed a tool box and jogged out to the parking lot and popped the hood on the moving truck and reaching in. He paused, smirked, and shut the hood, instead going to a van belonging to New Wave Robotics and forcing its hood open.

Several unscrewed bolts and detached wires later, Nathan returned with a set of jumper cables and large car battery, still grinning to himself. Mike noticed.

"Alright, what'd you do?" Mike asked. Nathan shrugged.

"Needed a power source," he replied vaguely, and got to work.

Using the jumper cables as a makeshift power cord and the car battery as a power source, Nathan was able to scrape together a way to charge Foxy's capacitor. It would take hours, and he hoped the battery would last long enough to charge Foxy completely, making sure the fox was turned off. Then again, if not, New Wave had another van parked outside…

* * *

><p>Nearly four hours and two car batteries (one from the truck, the other from another New Wave van) passed by while Foxy charged. In the lull of waiting, Mike and Nathan swapped stories, instantly bonding over their shared friendship with the animatronics. Mike explained the current situation of Freddy's.<p>

"It's really struggling," Mike said sadly, "Just barely made enough to keep the doors open the rest of the year. The murders and Bite really killed it, and we've been fighting ever since."

"At least they seem to be happy," Nathan said, pointing to Foxy.

"Yeah. Bonnie especially," Mike noted.

"She always took everything in stride. How's Freddy?" Nathan asked.

"Fine. OCD as hell, but good, I guess," Mike replied.

"And Chica?" Nathan continued.

"Was she always such a smart ass?" Mike asked.

"Pretty much. Picked it up not too long after being activated, never let go," Nathan said, remembering, "Always had something to say about everything. How's he?" Nathan gestured once again to Foxy.

"Between you and me: he's got a couple screws loose, and I'm worried about him. Got real anger issues," Mike said.

"Yeah, I never could figure out why he's so aggressive at times. He never got that way with the kids, though, so it never really caused a problem," Nathan explained. That was as far in the discussion as they got, as an audible beep sounded from Foxy. Both men turned to look at the animatronic, and a grin spread across Nathan's face.

"What? Popcorn done?" Mike asked sarcastically, knowing the real answer. Foxy was fully charged. Nathan's smile faded, and he turned back to Mike.

"I have to tell Trout," Nathan said, "If he thinks Foxy's not working, he'll scrap him for parts." Nathan got up and left, having to leave Mike tied up.

"Alright… I'll just… wait here…" Mike said awkwardly, shifting around. His arms were killing him, and he had managed to work the ropes a little bit looser in order to get more comfortable. He waited several minutes, gazing around. The door opened, but instead of Nathan it was the gaggle of New Wave technicians.

Mike glared at them as they once again swarmed Foxy, this time detaching Nathan's jury-rigged power supply and wheeling the fox outside, carrying the parts Nathan had to remove. One of them looked at Mike as he passed.

"You'll love him," Mike said, putting a definite edge in his voice, and turned away. The tech looked at him puzzled, and continued on his way.

* * *

><p>Nathan stood at the back of the Pizza Baron dining hall watching the New Wave technicians stand Foxy up on the middle of the stage. Trout wanted Foxy to perform a run through of his entire show, and see how it would work for his needs, figuring the first step was to turn it on, and see if the programming ran automatically. Nathan stuck his hands in his pockets, nervous. Allegedly the free roam function had been disabled (Hell, he was the one that did it), but the mechanic wondered nonetheless. He watched the technicians replace the endoskeleton plates that he had to remove to charge Foxy, and saw one open the back hatch on the fox's head, hitting the switch that he had described. Foxy's eyes lit up a bright yellow.<p>

* * *

><p>"Tha' be much better, tha' be, thank ye Mi-," Foxy turned his head around to face what he assumed was Mike standing behind him, but instead met the shocked face of a strange person. In fact, as he continued to search around, the pirate noticed that he was surrounded by these people. And, he was not in his Cove, nor Mike's apartment. Foxy dug deep into his thoughts, his memories, but nothing about where he was looked the least bit familiar, and he noticed several people in suits staring at him from the chairs.<p>

_Just like the first time I was…_ Foxy thought, and his eyes widened. Where was Freddy? Chica? Bonnie? Where was Mike? Where was _he?_ Had he been _replaced?_ The thought made him furious, a deep growl sounding from deep within his voice box. He felt a large heat spread throughout his insides, building rapidly, a massive store of fury that Foxy was just barely able to control. These people had taken away his _home, _his _friends,_ his _family,_ the only things he had left that made him happy. These people _replaced _him. Foxy sat on a hair trigger, prone to go off at the slightest provocation.

One of the people surrounding him stumbled trying to get around the fox's large frame, and grabbed onto Foxy's arm to keep himself from falling. Foxy snapped his head to look at him, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. The man stared back, color draining from his face.

"I don' like ta be _touched,_" Foxy told him in a deep growl, trembling with absolute rage. The dam broke, and Foxy let loose a deafening "SKREEE!" and flung the man off of his arm, tossing him almost entirely off of the stage. He hit the floor with a dull _thud_, and lay still.

The other technicians ran as fast as they could as all Hell broke loose behind them. One was too slow, screaming as Foxy latched on with his hook, piercing his shoulder with its point and dragging him back. The pirate's yellow eyes blazed as he looked at the man he had speared, screeching into his face and throwing him away.

The man sailed into the dining area, landing onto a table and bouncing off onto the floor, where he groaned in pain. Watching the man's flight drew Foxy's attention to the dining area, where the technicians and suits were grouped together, watching him with fear. Foxy took several long steps forward and jumped off the stage, growling furiously. He walked towards the small panicked crowd and raised his hook menacingly.

One of the men in suits bolted backstage, and Foxy ignored him, instead focusing on the larger mass of people. A table was in his path, so Foxy flung it aside, spilling the plates that had been set as part of the demonstration. The closer he got, the more panicked the group of people got, and when it became clear there was only several steps between themselves and a murderous-looking robot fox, they scattered.

Three fled for the front entrance. Foxy noticed and sprinted after them, spearing a small table with his hook and dragging it behind him. Using his good hand, he pulled the table free from his hook and threw it over the heads of the escaping people. The table crashed in front of the doors and made them all skid to a halt, reflexively backing away.

By this point Foxy had caught up, grabbing one of the people, this one in a suit, by his neck with his good hand.

"Where do ye think ye be goin'?" Foxy screeched at him. The man didn't respond, choking and gasping for breath. A sadistic smile spread across Foxy's face as his loose jaw dropped, opening unnaturally wide and showcasing his many sharp teeth. The pirate made no effort to close it, in fact opting to avoid moving his mouth at all when he spoke.

"Yer stayin' righ' here, lad, Ol' Foxy ain' through with ye yet," Foxy told him, and dropped the man so that he slid back towards the dining area, clutching at his throat and coughing. Movement captured the fox's attention as one of the other two people tried to run around him. Foxy stopped him with his hook, catching him in the side with the point. The man shouted out in pain. His attire matched those of the person that activated him. Foxy pulled his hook out, red following the point as it moved through the air. The man collapsed, and Foxy stepped over him.

"Contain it! Contain it!" one of the men in suits screamed, and several technicians did as ordered, cautiously forming a circle while picking up any makeshift weapon they could find. Foxy stopped looking at the man at his feet and watched them all carefully, almost daring one of them to make a move. One finally did.

He charged forward, yelling, and holding up a chair ready to knock Foxy down, swinging it at his back. Foxy reacted immediately, catching the chair in his good hand and blocking it. With a sharp tug, he ripped it from his attacker's hands and swung it back at him. A loud _thwack_ sounded as the chair connected with the man's gut and he was knocked back a few feet. Foxy let out another dreadful screech and grabbed the incapacitated guard at his feet, throwing him into another technician. He looked around.

"Yer all walkin' tha plank!" Foxy roared, and the group of technicians lost their nerve, dropping their impromptu weapons and backing away, one dragging the man in a suit Foxy choked. Foxy screeched again and began to wreck the dining hall. He upended tables, threw chairs, broke china, and shredded tablecloths while the staff looked on, too afraid to intervene. Whenever someone felt particularly bold and tried to stop, the fox would immediately turn on him, trying to gut him with his hook until they were either injured (where Foxy would then drag them aside) or ran away.

Nathan watched all of this, horrorstruck, from where he hid the instant Foxy growled. He wasn't surprised Foxy was mad, what shocked him was just how _brutal_ he was. Many of the technicians and a few of the executives were attacked, sporting broken bones, stab wounds, and lacerations were Foxy's metal hand grabbed them in a crushing grip. It really was a miracle nobody was dead, but how long would that last once he finished destroying the restaurant?

* * *

><p>Mike felt a grim sort of satisfaction as he heard the screams and screeches that came with an enraged Foxy.<p>

_That's what you get for kidnapping him,_ Mike thought.

The door to the backstage flew open, and a man in a suit sprinted in, locking eyes with Mike.

"You!" he shouted, pointing a finger. It was Trout. "You knew about this!"

"I _tried_ to warn you," Mike pointed out. Trout didn't reply, listening to the sounds of Foxy tearing apart the building. He narrowed his eyes.

"Come with me," he ordered, and grabbed the guard, dragging him towards the door.

"What the hell!?" Mike exclaimed, writhing and kicking to try and escape, but the ropes were too tightly bound. Trout kicked the door open and pulled Mike onto the stage.

The guard could see several prone figures, some moving, some not, and Foxy throwing around tables and chairs. Just past the animatronic, and out of the line of fire (for now) were the remaining staff, mainly men in suits, all trying to figure out how to stop Foxy. One of the suits slowly walked up to him, hands raised to chest level in a submissive fashion. He spoke out to the fox, who snapped his head to face him, stopping his destruction for a moment. The man said something in a low voice that Mike couldn't make out, possibly to try and calm the robot down.

But something he said clearly didn't make Foxy happy, as the pirate charged forward, grabbed the man by his throat and hoisting him a loft. The man kicked until his air supply dwindled, and slumped into unconsciousness as he was choked out. Foxy stormed over to the other staff, dropped the man at their feet, screeched at them, and returned to destroying the dining hall. Trout watched this with growing anger.

"Stop that thing!" Trout ordered Mike. The guard shook his head.

"I can't stop him, he's worked up! Best thing to do is let him calm down on his own," Mike explained. Trout flinched as Foxy broke a wooden table in half.

"No. You're going to stop him. _Now,_" Trout replied, and kicked Mike off of the stage into the middle of the hell-storm Foxy was raising.

Mike grunted loudly as he hit the floor, getting Foxy's attention. The fox stopped halfway through tossing a chair across the room, head snapping in the direction of the sound. Mike stared as he saw that Foxy's face was set in a deep scowl, bits of wood and cloth held in his closed jaw. Foxy dropped the chair he was holding and walked over, taking slow deliberate steps. Bits of wood snapped under the animatronic's weight as he advanced, hook slowly raising maliciously.

"Foxy? _Foxy!_ It's me! It's Mike!" Mike called out, struggling to get away, still tied up. No look of recognition seemed to pass over Foxy's face as he kept coming, growling.

"Foxy, no! No! Stop!" Mike screamed as the pirate grabbed him by his bindings. Foxy's jaw opened, spilling out its contents.

_The Bite of '87_, was all Mike thought of as Foxy's head darted forward, jaw snapping closed.

The fox's teeth shredded through the rope, stopping inches from piercing through the panicked guard. Mike's bindings fell away as Foxy used his hook to cut through the rest, setting the guard on his feet and pulling him into a careful hug.

"Mike, lad, it be good ta see ya!" Foxy said. Mike sighed in relief, legs weak.

"Foxy, oh thank God, I thought you were going to kill me!" Mike said, hugging the pirate back. Foxy let go first, and looked around, eyes narrowing at the staff who looked on, shocked.

"Where are we? Wha' happened?" Foxy asked, watching the people closely.

"We were both kidnapped, but whatever, we got to get out of here!" Mike said, grabbing Foxy's arm and trying to pull him towards the exit.

"Not so fast," Trout called out from the stage. Foxy glared at him. "You belong to me now, robot, and you're going to work for me."

"No, I'm no'," Foxy replied, turning to follow Mike to the entrance, other staff getting out of his way. Trout sighed.

"So difficult. Alright then, Christina?" Trout cued. A gunshot rang out and Mike grabbed his leg, screaming in pain and falling to the floor.

"Mike!" Foxy called out, rushing to the guard's aid. Christina cut him off, aiming her pistol at Mike's head.

"Stop or he dies," Christina threatened. Foxy screeched, but halted. Trout cleared his throat, getting the fox's attention.

"As I was saying: _you work for me,_" Trout repeated.

_**A/N: Finally, violence! After writing so many fun scenes recently, it felt good to go darker and have Foxy just annihilate everything. He is, after all, a Fazbear animatronic, and more than capable. This chapter took more time to write, since I had to do a lot of rewriting (I REALLY enjoy making the animatronics remind you why FNaF is a horror game, so this chapter got REALLY bloody at one point. Then I remembered I rated this T.) **_

_**In other news, and other reasons as to why I haven't been as active of late is that I got a job. It's at a place that has a bunch of bouncy castles (alright, "inflatables," but bouncy castle is more fun to say). I basically act like a lifeguard and keep the kids from killing themselves. I also get to play on them too, since I'm also supposed to entertain. **_

_**But enough about my personal life you don't care about. As far as this story goes, expect more from Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica as well as the Pizza Baron Band. Some of you seem confused about a German themed restaurant, thinking that it's a terrible idea. That's the point. Pizza Baron is supposed to be an odd mishmash of stuff as Trout Entertainment tries to appeal to everybody at once compared to Freddy's "just for kids" philosophy. Plus, New Wave Robotics is sort of the worst thing ever. **_

_**Yes, Pizza Baron is a bad idea, and yes, Baron von Pizzä has little to no personality. It's intentional, an idea me and my buddy KamikazeRebel (again, thank him for getting this off the ground) thought would be interesting, to have everyone be so proud of what they did, when it's nothing compared to Freddy's. **_

_**Also, how is Maxwell ("Spark Bark") offensive? I get why the Baron is (again, on purpose), but I like Maxwell. Drake, I feel, needs more time to shine a bit, and I need to practice my "Ye Olde English." **_

_**Anyway, thanks for reading stuff, reviewing stuff, drawing stuff, writing stuff based on my stuff, drawing stuff based on writing stuff about my stuff, burning drawings of stuff based on writings of stuff based on my stuff, storing stuff, stuffing stuff inside stuff so you can stuff stuff while you stuff, or whatever STUFF you do. Have a good one! –DeltaV "You know, stuff." **_


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Figuring Things Out

That night Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica all entered free mode at midnight, the same as always. It had been a slow business day, and the three were all a little bit down at the lack of people to entertain. As soon as they felt their joints loosen the bear, rabbit, and chicken stepped off the stage looking for Mike and Foxy. Hopefully their pirate friend managed to get charged.

"That's weird. Where are they?" Chica asked, looking around. Mike (and Foxy) always walked through the door exactly at midnight, but where nowhere to be found. Quick observation also found the truck Mike used to be missing as well. Bonnie joined Chica in staring at the entrance.

"Maybe they're just late?" Bonnie suggested. Chica shrugged.

"I guess," she replied, and crossed her arms, watching out the windows for the large white truck. Subtle scraping sounds indicated Freddy was again straightening chairs in the Dining Hall. He wasn't worried, understanding that Mike had more responsibility as of late, and did not feel it necessary to stand by the entrance.

But as the night wore on, he joined Bonnie and Chica as well, wondering just where Mike and Foxy were. An hour and a half after midnight, they all reached the same conclusion: something was wrong.

"Okay, something's wrong," Chica declared, "Mike would never be late like this."

"Much as I hate to say it, maybe the truck got into an accident? It's happened at that intersection before," Freddy said, offering a possible explanation. Bonnie shook her head.

"Look, there aren't any cars out there at night. What would he hit?" Bonnie asked.

"Maybe the truck just broke? Like a malfunction?" Chica offered, still staring out the window.

"That's plausible," Freddy said.

"Makes sense," Bonnie agreed, and her eyes widened. "You don't think they're hurt, do you?" Chica looked at her and shrugged again.

"No," Chica said, not believing herself. Freddy put a paw on both of their shoulders.

"I'm _sure_ they're fine. We'll hear from them soon. Worrying about it isn't going to help," Freddy said comfortingly, "Just hope for the best."

Dawn crept closer and closer, and even Freddy finally succumbed to the constant worrying over the whereabouts of Foxy and Mike. Taking matters into his own hands, the bear searched Mike's office for paper and a pen, deciding to write a note for Arianna.

Having never really had much reason to write in the past, Freddy struggled. Not to mention the pen he found barely fit in his suit's large paws. But he managed to scrawl out, in large lopsided script, a reasonable note. He left it in Arianna's office, rounding up Bonnie and Chica, who were still standing vigil at the door to get back into show places. Hopefully Arianna could find something out.

As Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica fretted about Foxy and Mike, so did Nathan. The mechanic sat shell-shocked after witnessing the carnage Foxy caused and Mike getting shot. He sat in a surviving chair, staring off into space as the room was cleaned of splinters, broken china, and blood. One of the technicians, the one that had been thrown completely off the stage, suffered massive head trauma and was rushed to the emergency room. Many others went with him, treating for broken bones, stab wounds, and damaged tracheas from being choked out by a metal hand. Fortunately (and surprisingly), nobody died.

Well, yet, as Foxy was still angry at the staff, and made every attempt to remind them. He and Mike were restrained backstage, Mike with rope, Foxy with metal chains and the threat on the guard's life. It was more of Mike's death that kept him in check, as the fox had already proven he could break the chains if he truly desired to.

As soon as Nathan recovered, he cautiously went backstage to check on the two of them. Foxy and Mike were opposite each other, with Mike currently asleep from painkillers, leg wrapped in gauze. Foxy was sitting, watching the guard sleep, chains already snapped from their hastily made wall mounts and broken off of his wrists and ankles. He looked up as Nathan walked in, eyes narrowing.

"Wha' do ye wan' now?" he asked. Nathan said nothing, and walked over to Mike, freezing when he heard Foxy growl.

"Tha lad jus' wen' ta sleep, ya swab, leave him alone!" Foxy ordered in a low voice, so as not to wake Mike, but was no less threatening. Nathan turned, with his hands raised.

"Foxy, it's me!" Nathan said. Foxy studied his face suspiciously, before suddenly lighting up in realization.

"Nathan, matey, wha' are ye doin' here?" Foxy asked, grinning widely in surprise, "Did they kidnap ya too?" Nathan shook his head.

"No. I… work for Trout," Nathan admitted, "I'm the one that charged you up. I had no idea it was like this. I thought you had been sold." Foxy nodded in understanding.

"'S alright, lad, I understand. Ye'd never wan' anythin' like this," Foxy said happily, and patted the floor next to him. Nathan sat down, looking closer at the tears in Foxy's suit, frowning.

"You were never put back in order, were you?" Nathan asked. Foxy nodded sadly.

"Aye. Freddy said it was 'cause o' tha bite, an' tha' tha rest'raunt wasn' allowed ta," Foxy replied, adding after a small pause, "I miss 'em." Foxy stared at the floor dejectedly, and Nathan decided to change the subject.

"So… What was that one story you had? I think it had a ghost ship in it? How did that go again?" Nathan asked, scratching his head in pretend confusion. Foxy smiled and launched into telling the tale, voice low to avoid waking Mike.

Arianna pulled into her reserved parking spot in front of the pizzeria at 6:03 the next morning to relieve Mike, wanting to ask him why there were skid marks left yesterday, as well as a crowbar outside. He hadn't stuck around, it seemed, and she had been late due to car problems. But it seemed as though the guard had taken off right at six again.

_Huh. Didn't even see the truck. He's not skimping on his hours, is he?_ Arianna thought as she unlocked the doors. The animatronics were in their proper place onstage, and that was good. The manager wore a small smile for a brief second, before checking herself. After learning of their sentience, her perspective of the machines shifted from property to almost like veteran employees, since they worked every day since the restaurant opened. Well, except for Foxy. As nice as they were when she finally _really_ met them, Arianna wasn't one hundred percent trusting of them. She had seen the mess they left Backstage plenty of times to just ignore it, especially since they were thinking for themselves.

Arianna walked into her office. It used to be Mr. Fazbach's, who loved to do most of his business inside the restaurant so he could watch the goings-on in the Dining Hall. When he died and most of the corporate backers left when Fazbear Entertainment went under after the lawsuits, control went to the manager, who was at this point essentially the owner. And with the control came the office.

Many of the previous managers refused to clean it out after Fazbach's death, leaving many of his pictures hanging on the walls and on the desk. His pride and joy had always been the animatronics, as pictures and drawings of the four dominated the subject matter of the décor. The largest work hung behind the chair, over Arianna's shoulder, and was a professional portrait painted of Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica onstage performing, with Foxy in Pirate's Cove as an insert in the bottom right corner. The picture had a lot more meaning now.

A slightly crumpled piece of paper sitting in the exact middle of her desk caught Arianna's attention. The penmanship of the writer was very poor, and occasionally a hole had been torn into the paper, but she was able to decipher it.

_Ms. Arianna,_

_Mike did not report for his shift last night, and as a result neither did Foxy. We assumed he might be preoccupied, as Foxy's power supply was completely depleted the night before. But they never arrived. It's not like Mike to not show up without explanation, and we're all very worried about him and Foxy. Could you please look into this, and meet us tonight? And please, don't hire a new guard. _

_Sincerely, _

_Freddy Fazbear_

Arianna stared at the name at the bottom of the letter, slightly shocked that Freddy wrote her a note. Then the gravity of what this meant hit her. Mike was a no-show, and Foxy was out of power. As much as she was frustrated with Mike's incidents, she had to agree that this was very unlike him, especially after befriending the animatronics. Arianna picked up the letter and walked over to the Show Stage, holding it up as she stood in Freddy's field of view.

"Alright, I'll check it out," she told the unmoving bear, not entirely sure he was aware of it. He was, however, and inwardly smiled.

Meanwhile, as the hours passed, Mike finally woke up, wincing as he moved his injured leg. He sat up, back cracking slightly as he stretched it, and looked around. Foxy was still sitting across from him, staring at the backstage door as sounds of cleaning wafted through. The door opened, and three of the New Wave Robotics technicians that hadn't been seriously injured stood, watching the fox with fear.

"Uh, we, uh, need you to, um, er," one of them stammered.

"Ou' wit it, ya bilge suckin' lubber," Foxy said, crossing his arms. Mike noticed the chains they tried to restrain him with had been torn out of their scrabbled together mounts. The technicians noticed too, and inched backwards. Foxy cocked his head expectantly, and one of the other technicians, this one a woman, took over.

"We need you to come out onstage. N-n-no funny business, alright?" she pleaded. Foxy growled in annoyance, and looked at Mike, noticing he was awake. Mike nodded.

"It'd be best to go along with it," Mike said, "Don't worry about me, I'm fine." Foxy looked back at the technicians and nodded once, standing up. Before he left, Mike whistled quietly, and Foxy turned.

"We'll figure a way out, just play along," Mike hissed, hoping Foxy could hear him. The fox's grin seemed to signify the affirmative, and he winked before walking out onto the stage, lowering his eye patch as he went.

On stage, Nathan was forearm-deep into the interior of Baron von Pizzä, detaching the cables that had been uploading his altered personality. New Wave had been ordered to redesign each one, but after Foxy's rampage, they were forced to pull an all-nighter, Nathan sticking around solely because of Foxy. Trout seemed desperate to learn what made them sentient, as was New Wave, despite the obvious danger it had already presented.

The mechanic could hear heavy clanking footsteps behind him, and turned. Foxy was following three terrified New Wave technicians, looking at each like he wanted to string them from the highest mast on the _Red Fox._ One of the techs walked up to him.

"Y-you take it," he said, tilting his head at Foxy. Foxy growled.

"I'm no' an _it!_" the fox screeched, crossing his arms and stomping a foot, continuing to growl. The tech jumped a foot, and looked at Nathan pleadingly.

"Don't look at me like that. Apologize," Nathan ordered. The tech stared at him.

"W-what?" he asked.

"You hurt his feelings, now say you're sorry," Nathan told him, winking at Foxy, "And he just might resist the urge to gut you with that hook."

The tech started, and quickly turned to Foxy.

"I-I'm sorry," he squeaked. Foxy tilted his head.

"Wha' was tha', lad?" he asked, twisting his hook around in his good hand. The technician stared at it, wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry for calling you an 'it'!" the technician said, much louder. Foxy smiled, and walked over to him. The color drained from the technician's face, and gave a huge flinch when the pirate placed his hook on his shoulder, tip pointing at his neck.

"Apology accepted, lad," Foxy told him, loose jaw dropping slightly. The technician sputtered, and Foxy lifted his hook off the man's shoulder, turning to Nathan and hearing the other techs leave the stage. Nathan was struggling not to laugh.

"Oh, God, I'm an asshole," Nathan said, snickering. Foxy joined in as well, his gruff "har-har-har!" laugh echoing across the empty stage. The fox noticed the Baron, and circled around, looking the robot up and down.

"Who be this?" Foxy asked, taking in the new animatronic's odd clothing.

"That's Baron von Pizzä," Nathan explained, "One of the animatronics I told you about. Over there's Maxwell, and up there's Drake." Foxy nodded, curious.

"Are they nice?" Foxy asked, looking at the smile on the Baron's deactivated face.

"Eh, I guess. They're not like you, they follow a programmed show, and that's it. No free mode," Nathan said, "They can answer questions at specific moments during the show, but that's about the extent of it."

Foxy nodded in understanding, and pushed his loose jaw into place thoughtfully.

"Turn 'em on," Foxy said, wanting to see what they were like. Nathan shrugged.

"No harm in that," he said, reaching back inside the Baron's skeleton and flicking the manual activation switch. The animatronic's head rose up, facing Foxy, but staring straight ahead.

"_Willkommen_, boys and girls, to Pizza Baron! I am Baron Lukus von Pizzä, and zhis is my restaurant, I hope you all have a pleasant time!" Baron announced happily in his deep voice. His German accent had been dialed up slightly, and more German words added to his vocabulary, his tone given a more commanding air. Originally intended to be a source of morals, Baron's role was changed to de facto leader, and pseudo-owner. Just like Freddy, but German.

Foxy looked confused, having never encountered another animatronic besides his Fazbear family, and waved his hook in front of the Baron's eyes. He didn't react. At this point in the show, Sir Drake and Maxwell would be introducing themselves, with Baron waiting for them to finish. But since he was the only one currently activated, the room was silent, except for the clicks of the fox and German shepherd. Nathan clicked around on the servicing computer currently hooked up to Baron, activating the "interaction" A.I.

A loud _clack_ sounded from Baron as his internal CPU accessed different sensors necessary for speech recognition and visual clues. His eyes focused on Foxy, who cocked his head.

"Raise your hand, that's his cue," Nathan prompted. Foxy raised his hook. Baron smiled and pointed at the fox.

"How about you, in that _wunderbar_ fox costume?" Baron asked. Foxy narrowed his eyes, but continued.

"Wha' are ye?" Foxy asked, not entirely sure how to start this. Baron blinked as he thought of a response. A loud _click_ sounded.

"A pirate, I see! I'm a German shepherd, _kamerad_, a type of dog," Baron explained.

"No, wha' are ye _exactly_?" Foxy asked.

"I'm a German shepherd, _kamerad,_ a type of dog," Baron repeated, exactly the same as before. Nathan shut him down upon seeing Foxy start to get extremely frustrated.

"That's all your going to get out of him for now. That's… why you're here, actually. They want to look at your programming, figure out what enabled you to become sentient, to learn, and implement it into these guys," Nathan explained, rubbing the back of his neck, "I know what you're going to say, and I agree, but if I don't do it my way, they'll do it theirs, and that means taking you apart. Obviously I agreed to the first one."

Foxy pondered what Nathan said. The fox really was stuck. If he tried to escape, Mike could be killed. If he didn't willingly let Trout have access to his A.I., he'd be scrapped and it would be taken anyway. Foxy growled in frustration.

"I don' be havin' much choice," Foxy scoffed. Nathan nodded.

"Yeah, me neither, bud," Nathan said sympathetically. Foxy rubbed his bottom jaw with his hook, weighing the options.

"Can' ye quit?" Foxy asked. Nathan shook his head.

"No, Trout's got us all legally bound to not say shit. He's a bastard, but he knew how to cover his ass. Hell, nobody even looked into those people you hospitalized. Besides, making this public would result in investigation, eventually connecting it back to you, and we'd be like we were with the Bite. Either way, we lose," Nathan said exasperated, "I'm really starting to hate my job."

Foxy growled again.

"Blast it! Wha's tha plan then?" Foxy asked, twisting his hook aggressively. Nathan sighed.

"For now? Do what Trout wants, keep you and Mike alive, and try and contact the others. If Freddy's finds out, we can get the law on our side. I'll see what I can do, but Trout definitely knows I'll go over there, and is probably having me watched. Fuck, he's really got a stick up his ass about you guys. Why?" Nathan wondered aloud. Foxy shrugged. Nathan shook it off.

"Whatever. I need to access your programming, okay? That means I gotta turn you off. I promise you'll turn back on, okay? Better me than those New Wave pukes, right?" Nathan told the fox. He nodded.

"Right, right. Jus'… do wha' ye got ta do," Foxy said.

Nathan smiled sadly, opening the back of Foxy's head and hitting the manual shut-off. Foxy's arms hung limply, his eyes dark. The mechanic grabbed his diagnostic computer, the only thing that could read the code on the dated hardware.

He knew exactly what it was for: to give the Pizza Baron Band the same kind of sentience.

_**A/N: Just have a few points for this here note, so I'll make it snappy like. **_

_**First announcement: I totally forgot to credit the reader that taught me about capacitors and the charging methods mentioned in the previous chapter. Extra-special thank you to RonwetheFallenOne for dropping the science! **_

_** Second announcement: YES, I'm aware the sequel is out. Please stop messaging me. Don't apologize, those who did, I appreciate you guys keeping me informed. I'm studying up on what this does to the plot of the series, and it's really screwing with my head canon. It's really confusing, as technically it's a prequel, but everything about how the animatronics look peg it as a sequel (the obvious being the Toy and "Old" versions of Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica, as well as the Mangle, which is apparently an old Foxy model. But then Foxy's in here too, more damaged than in the first game, but the Bite has to be more recent, as the Phone Guy indicates SPOILER WARNING: The fifth and sixth nights take place during the murders. Also, TOTALLY called it with Golden Freddy being the suit the murder used!) My point? Auerghhh! I don't know what to do! **_

_** Third announcement: I made a DeviantART profile, so if any of you fine people want to connect with me on it, the name is DeltaVFF (all other forms of "DeltaV" were taken). I've already favorited all existing (to my knowledge) fan art stuff, so it'd be an easy way for those of y'all that want to see some of that. **_

_** Alrighty, I'll keep doing my thing and writing my stuff (as well as figure out where FNAF 2 sits in all this. Balloon Boy is NOT a favorite, nor is that damn marionette, jump scaring bastard. Mangle's pretty cool, even if I was really sad to see who it used to be.) So yeah, I'll see you guys next chapter. Have a good one! –DeltaV "Maybe a sort of coma fantasy or dream? No, that sounds like an episode of 'General FAZpitol'… I'll keep working on it." **_


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Sentience

Arianna spent the entire day trying to track Mike and Foxy down. A part of her immediately assumed the worst and that Foxy had been stolen, but she muscled past that. After all, that would be a worst-case scenario, and she figured that Mike was most likely chasing Foxy down or something. The fox had never been outside before he was temporarily "evicted" from Pirate's Cove. Far as she knew, anyway.

The last thing she did was call the local police station asking if anyone had reported a bizarre man in costume running around. The man on the other end suddenly became very nervous.

"What kind of costume?" the man, who identified himself as Sergeant Polk, asked.

"Fox-shaped. With a hook for a hand, like a pirate. It was stolen from our restaurant recently," Arianna lied, curious as to the man's sudden fright. She could hear Polk swallow.

"Nope, nothing. If, if we hear anything, I'll call you back," he replied, then hung up.

Arianna frowned at her phone.

_Jackass,_ she thought, and put the phone back on its cradle. That was the last number she wanted to try, having already called Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt (nothing, but they were concerned as to Mike's well being) and the landlord of Mike's apartment. Apparently Mike neglected to mention Foxy to him, and at least the rumor that spread of some sort of fox monster were put to rest.

Arianna sighed, leaning back in her chair.

"Shit," she groaned. Freddy wanted answers, and there wasn't a single lead she could give him. It would be an interesting night.

Arianna stayed in her office long after the restaurant closed, watching the janitor do a double-take through the window in the door, before smiling nervously and scrubbing like mad. She arched an eyebrow at him, and went back to recording the restaurant's expenses. With so few customers outside of regulars, food cost and natural gas consumption was at an all-time low. The biggest money sink was the power bill, the massive coils under the stage used to charge the animatronics requiring massive amounts of electricity in order to be effective. That was why power had to be conserved at night, since most of the budgeted use was needed in the time before midnight and between six o'clock and eight o'clock in the morning, when the animatronics charged. There was a smaller assembly located directly underneath Foxy's treasure chest in Pirate's Cove, since it only needed the capacity to charge one animatronic's power supply.

Arianna frowned. They were set up so that there wouldn't have to be a complicated system of cables, if the old notes she had were any indication. Mr. Fazbach eventually wanted the animatronics to be completely self-sufficient and charge themselves when needed using the massive coils. Plus it had the benefit of allowing the robots to get a little bit of juice from other electric currents in the building, adding to their operating battery life.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes before midnight, the janitor left, saluting politely through the office door's window as he went, and Arianna was left alone.<p>

_Well, not "alone," alone,_ she thought, looking out to the Show Stage. Although she would never, _ever_ admit it to any of the staff, especially Mike, Freddy and the others gave her the creeps. She was not _afraid, _she just thought their metallic nature was… unsettling. Especially in the darkened restaurant. Learning of their sentience didn't exactly put her at ease, again reflecting back on the times she found what was left of one of the night guards smeared inside one of the suits Backstage. The time ticked by at an agonizingly slow pace and Arianna felt her sense of dread build at each passing minute.

With a final _tick_ the clock struck midnight, and Arianna waited in her office. Through the window she could see the animatronics' eyes flicker on, glowing softly in the dark of the Dining Hall. Freddy's eyes glanced around the empty space in front of him, and met with the manager's. He nodded, and stepped off the stage, Bonnie and Chica right behind. The door to her office was closed, and the bear knocked politely, bending slightly to look through the small window.

"May we come in?" he asked through the door. Arianna nodded.

"Yeah, door's unlocked," she replied. After a small pause, the doorknob turned and the door opened. Freddy walked in, holding his hat in his paws. Bonnie was behind him, paws clasped in anticipation in front of her chest, while Chica had her arms crossed, permanent glare on her face. It wasn't directed at Arianna, but rather at the floor and walls.

"Anything?" Freddy asked hopefully. Arianna sighed, and shook her head.

"Nothing yet, I'll keep looking tomorrow," Arianna reported. Freddy and Bonnie visibly deflated, and Chica grunted in frustration, crossing her arms tighter.

"I see…" Freddy said, and walked out of the office. Bonnie watched him leave, and then turned to Arianna.

"If you hear anything, tell us, okay?" Bonnie pleaded.

"Yeah. Of course," Arianna reassured, surprised about how worried they were. "You'll be the first to know." Bonnie stood still in the office, staring at the floor. Her ears drooped, bending at the joint in the middle. Arianna drummed her fingers on her desk uncomfortably. The rabbit didn't move, the only sound the whirring of her processor as she processed emotions.

After several minutes of this whirring, Bonnie finally did move, meeting eyes with Arianna and crossing the room in three long strides. Arianna recoiled reflexively as Bonnie grabbed her and pulled the startled manager into a crushing hug, lifting her off the ground.

"I'm scared," Bonnie admitted, clinging to Arianna like a child to a parent, "I don't know where they are, if they're safe, anything!"

Arianna couldn't say anything, struggling to breathe and vainly trying to push away. After several agonizing seconds, Bonnie let go and returned to the Show Stage, desperately needing to talk to Freddy. Arianna sat slumped against her desk taking deep breaths.

"Jesus," she wheezed, and got up only to collapse back onto her chair. She rubbed her temples, trying to think of a lead. Where the hell were they?

* * *

><p>Nathan closed the access hatch on the back of Drake's armor, wrapping up the cord that had connected his diagnostic computer to the dragon's CPU. It had taken all day, but the remaining New Wave Robotics technicians found the key lines of code that gave the Fazbear animatronics the astounding ability to learn, resulting in their sentience. Unbeknownst to Mike and Nathan, the original plan called for erasing Foxy's artificial intelligence, to keep him from being a future problem, but Trout wanted the fox to remain as he was.<p>

"I have a feeling he'll come to enjoy being a part of Trout Entertainment, as will Mr. Schmidt," he had said.

Mike watched Nathan work from a folding chair placed offstage, leg still wrapped in gauze. Foxy had fashioned the injured guard a crude crutch from the leg of a spare table in the restaurant's storage room, and he know absent-mindedly tapped it on either side of his chair to a slow rhythm. The pounding caused the crutch to shed several small splinters of wood from the end that used to be attached to a table.

Foxy, on the other hand, was exploring his new surroundings, the restaurant's theirs for the night as the other staff left. Immediately thought shifted to breaking out, but Trout had figured they would attempt it, and had all the doors chained up. Mike suggested trying the glass, but found all the windows to be hurricane-rated, and practically bulletproof.

"That excessive bastard!" Mike cursed, watching the table Foxy pelted bounce off the front window, glass shuddering in its frame. It hardly cracked, sporting a collection of scratches as a testament to its durability. Nathan had volunteered to stay, devoting his time to his newest chore of uploading the "learning program" to Maxwell, Baron, and Drake. And now, it was almost the moment of truth.

As Nathan performed last-minute checks of all the systems, Foxy had managed to get himself into the Pizza Baron kitchens. He took it all in with half-lidded boredom and entertained himself with opening all of the fridges and tossing out what little contents they had. It was mainly water bottles for the staff, with the occasional left over lunch. After relocating all of the fridge contents to the kitchen floor, Foxy experimentally tapped the shining countertops with his hook and noticed it left a thin white scratch on the dark stone. He grinned, and began scratching away.

* * *

><p>Mike hobbled towards the kitchen, having seen Foxy walk in there earlier that night, and found him standing in the center, chuckling to himself. Bottles of water were scattered across the floor, several flattened when Foxy stepped on them. A half-eaten sandwich lay disassembled across a stove, but what really caught Mike's attention was the countertops.<p>

The words "It's Me" were scratched into nearly every stone surface, copying the style that Foxy scratched onto the back of his "Out of Order" sign. The pirate noticed Mike looking.

"Ahoy, Mike! Wha' do ye think?" Foxy asked, spreading his arms out.

"Interesting décor. What does 'It's Me' mean, anyway?" Mike asked. Foxy shrugged.

"It's me," he replied simply. Mike brushed it off.

"Whatever, come back to the stage, Nathan's about to boot up those other robots. Might as well enjoy the show," Mike said, and began to slowly limp his way back, struggling with his makeshift crutch. Foxy followed, humming to himself.

* * *

><p>Nathan waited patiently for Mike and Foxy to return, knowing they would probably want to see what the Pizza Baron Band was like. The two never saw them perform, and the demonstration had been cancelled after Foxy's rampage. He wasn't quite finished, but had calmed down enough to just scratch things with his hook.<p>

Metallic clanking and the soft _clop_ of Mike's crutch announced that Foxy and the guard had arrived, and the two stepped onto the stage. Mike sat in the chair, wincing as he tweaked his injured leg. They looked at Nathan expectantly, and the mechanic clapped his hands.

"Alright, let's get this over and done with, I want to sleep," Nathan announced. Mike nodded in agreement and Foxy watched the unmoving animatronics with growing interest. Nathan moved quickly between each animatronic, climbing up to Drake's elevated perch, hitting the manual power switch in their backs. There was a small pause as the animatronics booted up, loading their new intelligence programming. The first to activate was Sir Drake.

"Alas! What doth be this newest of sensations?" Drake asked Nathan. Foxy frowned.

"Wha'? How're the kiddos 'sposed ta undastand a lubber tha' talks like tha'?" Foxy asked, unaware of the irony. Drake locked eyes.

"You insult my honor! Draw thine sword, peasant!" Drake declared, raising up his own. Foxy growled.

"I don' need me cutlass," he said, taking several steps towards the dragon. Nathan stepped between them.

"Hey! No dueling! Foxy, you know better," Nathan scolded, then turned to Drake, "You've been given improved artificial intelligence and a free roam program. You're not on a script, and your personality is taking over to compensate. Now relax." Drake nodded in understanding.

"Ah, I see. So ye be the one that gave me life. Many thanks, you are in my debt," the dragon said, crossing an arm over his chest before turning to Foxy, "Apologies, hook-handed sir. I trust all is forgiven?" Foxy shrugged.

"I 'spose," he replied. At this time, Baron von Pizzä's programming activated, and he looked around.

"_Was?_ I feel… strange… liberated, almost," he observed aloud. Nathan walked over to him.

"You've had an artificial intelligence improvement and a free mode program installed. You're off script," Nathan explained. Baron smiled.

"_Wunderbar!_ It's so much nicer to zhink freely," he said. Mike watched this with surprise.

"Jeez, learning fast, aren't they?" Mike asked. Nathan shook his head.

"No, no, they already had artificial intelligence before, just a lot more limited. Now that their minds have been… 'opened,' so to speak, they can apply all of their past observations," Nathan told the guard.

Mike speaking caught the Baron's attention, and he turned his head to face him. A puzzled expression was on his face as he tried to recognize him, and ultimately failed. Looking at his feet, the German shepherd took several awkward steps towards Mike, not used to walking around. Baron tipped his hat.

"_Hallo_, I don't zhink we've met. Mein name is Lukus von Pizzä, und I am zhe, well, Pizza Baron," Baron greeted, gesturing to the rest of the restaurant for emphasis.

"I'm Mike. I'm being held prisoner," Mike said. Baron cocked his head, not quite understanding.

"Oh. Vell, best wishes with zhat, then," Baron replied after a short pause, not getting it. By now, Maxwell had finally activated, looking around.

"Whoah!" he exclaimed, "I feel weird!"

"And I was worried you wouldn't grace us with your presence," Drake said sarcastically. Nathan quickly repeated his explanation.

"Really? Cool!" Maxwell replied, turning to Baron, "Isn't this great, VP?" Baron chuckled.

"Yes, it is," he agreed, "But vhere's _Herr_ Trout?" Baron looked around for the owner. Foxy frowned at the name.

"Wha' do ye wan' tha' bilge rat fer?" Foxy asked. Baron looked at him.

"He's in charge, zhat's why," Baron explained.

"He'll be here in the morning. For now, just, I don't know, hang out," Nathan said. Foxy quickly made introductions with the others.

"Why do you talk like that?" Maxwell asked.

"I'm a pirate," Foxy replied simply, holding up his hook.

"Awesome! What's a pirate?" Maxwell asked. Foxy grinned and launched into a story. Maxwell watched, enthralled, as the fox told the story of the time he found the lost ship of Davy Jones, and an entire hold full of Spanish gold. Drake looked on with disapproval.

"So thou art a bandit, then? Disgraceful," he sniffed.

"No way! Foxy's _awesome!_ The way you tricked Davy Jones into getting you the key? So cool!" Maxwell replied, "I'm glad you get to join our show!" Foxy stared.

"Wha'?" he asked.

"Yeah, didn't you know? You've got your own show! Hey, are you going to tell more stories?" Maxwell's voice faded away as Foxy processed the news. Mike looked at Nathan.

"He's performing?" Mike asked. Nathan shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess New Wave already put their new script in. Sure seems that way," the mechanic replied, turning to Baron, "who's part of your band, Baron?" Baron turned to look at him, and held up a finger. Quiet whirring could be heard as Maxwell continued to bombard Foxy with questions.

"Vell, zhere's myself, of course. And young Maxwell, Sir Drake, and… _ja, _Foxy zhe Pirate," Baron replied matter-of-factly, "Strange. I don't remember him ever being a part of it before… Oh vell, I'm sure it's no fault of yours." Baron then turned to watch Maxwell and Foxy discuss piracy, ships, creatures, and gold. The wolf-dog sat on the stage, looking in absolute awe at his newest hero as Foxy shared more of his "true" swashbuckling adventures.

"By my troth, these tales be none truer than telling me mine scales art red!" Drake complained, fidgeting on top of the small tower that was his stage, unable to get down. There was a set of stairs, but walking was already a task they hadn't mastered quite yet, so for now the knight was stuck.

Foxy ignored the dragon's outburst, pressing on with adventure after adventure to his enamored audience, all through the night. By the time it neared six a.m. Nathan and Mike had fallen asleep, Mike in the chair and Nathan on a mat onstage. Baron draped a drop cloth over him like a blanket, but was unable to get one to stay on Mike. As soon as the clock struck six, the Pizza Baron Band locked up, automatically shutting off.

This was an effect of having copies of Foxy's base code, but also an added measure added in by New Wave to allow charging. Their method was more conventional, simply a power cable plugged into the back of their heads.

* * *

><p>Foxy was dismayed he had to stop, and awkwardly stood around onstage as he waited for the staff to arrive. Replacements had apparently been found for the technicians Foxy injured, the numbers of people in blue coveralls doubling from yesterday. The one's who had made it through Foxy's rampage looked at him nervously, smiling in a "I'm not doing anything wrong" sort of manner. The new ones were impressed by the fox's expressiveness and sentience, having gotten the run-down from the veterans, but got the message upon seeing the faces of the other techs and Foxy's scowl. It's meaning was clear: <em>Do not mess with the fox.<em> The pirate clomped into the backstage.

Trout arrived a half-hour later, having an aide tap Nathan and Mike awake. Mike jumped in his chair.

"I'm not an endoskeleton!" he shouted, reacting to whatever his dream had been. He looked at Trout, his expression immediately souring. Nathan sat upright and stretched, cracking his back.

"Good morning Mr. Grymes, Mr. Schmidt," Trout greeted, nodding to each in turn, "I trust all was well last night?" The last statement was pointed at Mike. The guard crossed his arms.

"Fine as it can get after being _shot,_" Mike spat back. Trout shook his head slowly.

"Now now, that was _your_ decision. You chose to do it the hard way," Trout told the guard, "Granted, it might not have been the _wisest _course of action by Christina, but you really gave us no choice. Can't have you reporting this to the authorities, now can we?" Trout turned to Nathan.

"Everything going well with the animatronics?" he asked. Nathan buried a scowl, keeping his face blank.

"Yessir, all loaded up and already learning," Nathan reported.

"Wonderful. And our friend Frankie?" Trout asked. Mike butted in.

"It's Foxy, but I'll tell him you said that. I'm sure he'd love to hear it," Mike commented bitterly. Trout clucked his tongue.

"Now Mr. Schmidt, no threats. You forget where you stand, after all," he replied smugly.

"I'm sitting, thanks to you, but I'll keep that in mind. Pretty cocky now that you've got Foxy on a leash," Mike replied. Trout's expression darkened.

"And _you're_ very bold considering your life is the leash," Trout shot back, "Don't make me yank it." Mike glared, but said no more. Trout's expression returned to an almost bored expression, and he turned to Nathan, who had awkwardly watched the whole exchange.

"Keep me updated, would you Mr. Grymes?" he said, and walked off of the stage, his entourage following him. Mike stared holes into the back of Trout's head.

"What's his problem?" Mike asked, "Why's he so intent on keeping Foxy here, so much he'd kill me over it?" Nathan shrugged.

"Hell if I know. He's been obsessed with Freddy's for a while now. I've only worked for him for a year and a half, and he's always talking about it. Especially the murders," Nathan offered.

"Maybe he's the killer's cousin or something," Mike spat sarcastically.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Nathan replied, "Now, if you don't mind, I'm feeling like some pizza. See you in a few." With that, Nathan gathered his belongings and walked for the entrance. One of the Trout Entertainment workers went to stop him.

"I'm sorry Nathan, but Mr. Trout doesn't want anyone leaving," he explained. Nathan crossed his arms, looking down in mock dismay.

"Oh darn, Clark, that's a shame. I was just getting food for Foxy," Nathan said. Clark looked at him.

"…W-What?" he asked. He had been one of the people that had been cornered the previous and Nathan's coworker for years, and definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed.

"Oh, you didn't know? Fazbear robots don't use electricity to charge up day-to-day, they can use organic material instead, like… I don't know… _meat,_" Nathan lied, grinning despite himself. Clark paled, horrified, and Nathan pressed on.

"Since Foxy ran out of power the other day, he's pretty hungry. And it's _any_ organic material, mind you, so I figured I go and get him something before he becomes… _desperate,_" Nathan finished, inwardly chuckling at the expression on Clark's face.

"An-any kind of meat?" Clark asked. Nathan nodded seriously.

"Oh yeah, and, well, this place is like a buffet, right? Shame about those rules, though," Nathan said, looking at his nails in a bored fashion. Clark looked over to where Trout had walked into the manager's office, then back at Nathan.

"Okay, you can go. But be quick, okay? And make sure you get a lot," Clark said, stepping out of the way. Nathan patted him on his cheek.

"Thanks a ton, Clark, I owe you one," Nathan said, and walked out, calling over his shoulder, "Tell you what, I'll pay it now. I'll tell Foxy to make sure you're last." Clark whimpered as the entrance shut behind him, and he looked at the stage. Foxy poked his head out of the door, looking for Mike, and locked eyes with the man. Clark awkwardly waved, and the fox stared at him quizzically, before going back into the backstage area. Clark sighed in relief.

* * *

><p>Nathan climbed into his pickup and headed straight for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Time was running against him, in case Trout came looking for him. Clark wouldn't rat him out, Foxy scared him too much, but at some point the others would notice he was gone.<p>

There was only a sedan sitting in the parking lot at the moment, the restaurant not opening officially until about 10:00. Nathan pulled his truck next to it, hopping out. The front door wasn't locked, and he quickly walked in. A woman was in the manager's office, speaking intently into her telephone, back to the door.

Nathan slipped past, grabbing a paper kid's book and a pen from the hostess podium and heading for the stage. Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica were in their usual show positions, and it pained him to see the rough state they were in.

While the damage was not nearly as severe as Foxy's, many off-color splotches covered their suits, joints speckled with rust and tarnish. Bonnie had a small hole on the right side of her suit's stomach, a similar one on the opposite side. Freddy had a small chunk pulled off on his back, and faded handprints could be seen on his face. Chica had flower and pizza sauce stains on her front. Actually, all of them had these sauce stains, mostly on their arms and the front of their torsos. Apparently they all got into baking pizza.

Nathan quickly scribbled a note, slipping it under Freddy's hat, having to stand on his toes to reach. Thankfully the top hat always fit rather snugly. The note now planted, Nathan put his hand on the bear's shoulder, smiling proudly into Freddy's permanent smile. He did the same with Bonnie and Chica.

"Good luck today, guys. I'll see you soon," Nathan said, and snuck out of the pizzeria.

_**A/N: Well. This took forever. Just about to hit the climax, so that's fun. I have to confess, I like making people scared of the robots a lot more than I really should. Anyhow, let's get onto some announcements! **_

_**Okay, so, first things first: I know what I'm doing about Five Nights at Freddy's 2 and how it'll relate to my series. Thanks so much everyone who sent me ideas of their own, I really appreciate the support! I'm not going to spoil it here, so stop making that face. It'll get you nowhere. **_

_**Secondly: I'm slowly starting to post the series onto my DeviantART page too, putting up entire nights as a single file to download and read at your own pace. It's slow because I have to pull all the chapters together, and I'm also editing them for continuity and writing mechanics. Don't be dismayed, FanFiction will always be my priority, and you will get the new stuff first. Just once a Night is completed, it'll eventually make its way over there. **_

_**Thirdly: You guys are the best. Seriously. Just, just look at how popular this has become. I remember back when I was posting Night One, and I got my first review, and I was like "Sweet molasses on a baby's face, somebody likes this stuff!" And now I get at least 100 on the first chapter alone. I've seen some awesome pieces of fan art, and have been lucky to read the words "based on Just Another Night at Freddy's by DeltaV" on several works on here. This is the best feeling in the world, so thank you guys so much. If I feel like "Eh, they can wait another week or whatever" I look at the old reviews, the comments on DeviantART, the ART on DeviantART, and I'm like, "TO THE COMPUTER!" Then I fall asleep. Vicious cycle. Oh, another interesting trend: Antifreeze. Yeah, I know, right? Ever since that one Author's Note where I shared that I tasted (NOT drank, dammit!) antifreeze, I've seen people say things like "I drank ALL the antifreeze!" and stuff like that. So, quick disclaimer. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: DeltaV accepts no responsibility on the absolute stupidity of the people who decide to drink antifreeze based on the aforementioned Author's Note. If said person ingests it and suffers from blindness, neurological damage, numbness in the extremities, constant metallic taste in mouth, kidney failure, liver failure, Red Ring of Death, uneven tire wear, shirts shrinking in the laundry, missing socks, missing children, alcoholism, state-shaped moles, 404, debt, insurance fraud, death, SUPER death, or any other negative effect by being a complete dumbass. **_

_**Oh, and Five Nights at Freddy's is owned by Scott Cawthorn, not me, as do the original iterations of Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy, Mike, and Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. I own my characterizations, OC's, and the ability to kill Trout and Christina. I shall use it wisely. –DeltaV "Don't sue, Scotty. Can I call you Scotty? Scotty." **_


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Ahead of Schedule

Trout stood at the window of his office, looking out into Pizza Baron's dining hall. Several workers were finishing repairing the damage left by that damn fox, which now extended to sealing up a large amount of scratches on the counters in the kitchen. The worker that discovered the messages was clearly disturbed, and refused to go back in for any reason. Even Trout had to admit that Foxy was unsettling, with his exposed endoskeleton, loose jaw, hook, and sharp teeth. But as long Trout had Mike that machine wouldn't dare try anything anymore. Then movement at the front entrance caught Trout's attention.

He watched as Nathan slipped between the double doors and speed-walked towards the backstage. Trout frowned, his suspicions confirmed, and picked up the phone in his office, quickly dialing the necessary number.

"Peterson? It's Trout. Change of plans, we open tomorrow," Trout said, listening to Peterson's response, "I know it's short notice, and I don't care. Get the publicity going right now, we just need the immediate area. And make sure New Wave loads the newest show script. Yes, even on the fox. I don't care how, get it done." Trout hung up and stared out the window, rubbing his chin. He was running out of time.

* * *

><p>Nathan stepped through the door to the Pizza Baron backstage to inform Foxy and Mike of what went on. He found the two talking, sitting opposite of each other on the floor. They looked up when Nathan entered.<p>

"Oh, hey Nathan," Mike greeted, and Foxy raised his hook before returning back to their conversation.

"I'm not sure how we can just leave, I mean, Trout's watching us like a freaking hawk. And, you know, there's that threat of me getting killed still looming from that bitch Christina," Mike was explaining. Foxy growled at the name.

"Tha' wench," he muttered, "If only I had gotten me hook on her… 'M sorry I couldn' help ya, lad." Mike waved the apology away.

"Not your fault, I wasn't expecting getting shot in a pizza place of all places. And besides, I've been through worse," Mike said. Foxy nodded, then looked at Nathan.

"Wha' abou' ye, matey? Somethin' on yer mind?" Foxy asked, noticing how the mechanic seemed eager to say something. Nathan nodded.

"Yeah, I snuck over to Freddy's," Nathan said, grinning despite himself. Foxy cheered.

"Ye wen' ta Fazbear's!? Ha-ha! How be tha others?" Foxy asked eagerly, and Nathan shushed him.

"They're fine, keep it down," Nathan warned, "I slipped Freddy a note telling him where we are. Hopefully he can help."

"O'course he can!" Foxy said, "He be the leader, after all."

"I'm confident too, so now we just need to play along until the cavalry arrives. Don't give them any reason to suspect anything," Nathan explained. Mike and Foxy nodded in unison. A comfortable silence permeated, aside from Foxy's clicks and clacks as he looked around. A knock sounded on the backstage door. Foxy snapped his head to face it.

"What?" Nathan called through. The door opened to reveal Clark, who stared at Foxy in fear.

"What, Clark?" Nathan asked again, but Clark continued to stare at Foxy, too terrified for words. Foxy rolled his eyes.

"Blazes, lad, wha' do ye wan'? I'm no' gonna bite. No' righ' now, anyway," Foxy told the petrified man. Clark blinked, and flinched.

"Um, er, uh, I," he stammered, then turned to Nathan, voice a loud whisper, "Is he, you know, _fed_?" Nathan chuckled and nodded, winking at Mike and Foxy.

"Yes, Clark, he's all set. Now what is it?" Nathan asked. Clark sighed in relief.

"Trout wants you," he said simply, and practically ran out of the room. Mike watched him leave, a confused expression on his face.

"What did he mean by _fed_?" the guard asked. The mechanic laughed.

"I'll tell you later. Let's go see what the Big Bastard wants," Nathan replied, and stood up. Mike and Foxy followed him out onto the stage, where the Pizza Baron Band had been activated. Maxwell noticed them first.

"Hey guys! Mr. Trout was just telling us about the show!" he said excitedly. Baron turned as well.

"_Ja,_ he vas mentioning somezhing about a script…?" Baron let the question hang, looking at Trout for confirmation. The executive nodded.

"Yes. Mr. Grymes, would you be so kind as to load the newest show script onto Fonzie?" he asked, way too politely.

"My name be _Foxy_," Foxy corrected, crossing his arms. Trout waved his hand dismissively.

"Yes, of course. Be sure every part of the new show is loaded. After all, we have a new band member. Don't take too long, we open tomorrow," Trout finished, and began walking away. Nathan did a double-take.

"Yeah, sure, shouldn't be too lon-, wait, _tomorrow?_ We're supposed to open next week!" Nathan exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes, but we're… ahead of schedule," Trout replied over his shoulder, and walked out of the restaurant. Nathan and the others stared after him. Maxwell gave a cheer.

"Alright! Tomorrow!" he said happily, "No more waiting, I can _finally_ show off my awesome keytar skills!"

"Your what?" Mike asked.

"Keytar! Check it out!" Maxwell explained, and handed his instrument over to Mike. As Mike examined the instrument, Maxwell turned to Foxy.

"What about you, Captain? Are you excited?" Maxwell asked. Foxy nodded silently, the news he would definitely be performing again sounding almost too good to be true.

This response satisfied Maxwell, and he launched into an explanation of how keytars worked. Mike's eyes quickly glassed over as he listened rather unwillingly. Drake called down from this tower, unable to walk down the stairs quite yet.

"You there, fox. I request a word," Drake said, pointing at Foxy. Foxy shook his head, and didn't move.

"Wha'?" the pirate called back. Drake huffed.

"I be referring to thou's conduct around Lord Trout," Drake explained. This broke Mike out of his stupor.

"_Lord_ Trout? You gotta be shitting me," he quipped, before Maxwell pulled his attention back to the world of keytars. Baron shook his head.

"Such vulgar language," he muttered to himself. Drake continued unperturbed.

"I am referring to thou's most uncouth wit," Drake scolded, "Thou, a common thief, have not a single right to conduct thineself in such a fashion in front of a man of title!" Foxy cocked his head, confused at the odd language.

"Wha'? Blazes, speak English, ye dog," Foxy growled in frustration. Nathan stepped forward.

"He says you're being a jerk to Trout," Nathan translated. Foxy stared up in confusion again.

"So? Tha' lubber be a no good, dirty, rotten, bilge-suckin', back-stabbin'…" Foxy was cut off by Nathan.

"We get it, you don't like him," Nathan said, hoping another fight wouldn't break out, "Let's just get this script load going. It'll take a while." Baron nodded.

"_Ja,_ let's not fret, remember: we're opening tomorrow! Think about zhat!" Baron said optimistically. Drake and Foxy both crossed their arms and turned away from each other, grumbling to themselves.

"Peasant," Drake mumbled.

"Bilge rat," Foxy muttered.

"Knock it _off,_" Nathan ordered, and the two feuding robots nodded guiltily.

That matter now resolved, Nathan grabbed the New Wave computer and walked to each Pizza Baron animatronic, shutting them down. He did the same to Foxy as well, then plugged in the computer into Maxwell first. The progress bar appeared on the monitor, and Nathan sighed.

"It's gonna be a long wait, Mike," Nathan said. Mike shrugged, and a silence fell over. After a long pause, Mike spoke up.

"Knock, knock," he said.

"Don't you even," Nathan groaned. Mike just grinned.

* * *

><p>Getting the brand new script installed dragged on into the night, with Nathan once again unable to go home in order to make sure everything got installed properly, finally able to go to bed close to 11:30.<p>

Meanwhile, back at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Arianna was giving the briefing to the temporary night guard. He would have received his training during the day, but the manager had spent that time searching for any new leads. She understood the robot's aversion to bringing in a new guard, and she intended to assure them that he was only a temporary replacement until Mike was found. She never did, leaving the new guy in his office playing with the tablet, heading home to get some sleep.

The new guy's name was Dalton, and he had only really learned about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza recently, having seen the little "promotion" at the mall.

Much like Mike, he needed a job, and would take anything, since he was in college. While he waited for the start of his shift, he was distracted by his cell phone.

"C'mon bro, just go for the publishing deal. Who cares if it's nerdy, just _embrace it_. Look, if you ever want to bounce ideas, I'm your guy, you know that. What, now? Well I have this idea for a German-," but Dalton was cut off by his watch alarm.

"I gotta go, shift just started. Yeah, yeah, just work on that next chapter, people'll love it. They have so far," Dalton said, and sighed in exasperation at the voice on the other end of the line, "_My_ favorite? The second one, okay? Now I _have _to go!" He ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket, shaking his head. He picked up the tablet, flicking through it casually.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Freddy and the others quickly loosened up, and the bear immediately grabbed the note from under his hat. He started reading, eyes scanning left and right. Chica and Bonnie waited expectantly. Freddy looked up.<p>

"Oh, right, sorry: _Hey guys. It's Nathan, your old mechanic. Remember? I found Mike and Foxy, they've being held hostage at Pizza Baron, that new restaurant. Foxy's fine, but Mike got shot in the leg. He's recovering, before you start flipping out. I want to get them out, but the owner's got my hands tied. We can't do it ourselves, as they've threatened to kill Mike, so I need your guys's help. Anything you can do. Try your manager. It's good to see you guys again. Nathan,_" Freddy read. Bonnie beamed.

"I knew that was him!" she said happily. Chica nodded.

"And now we know what's up. What's the plan Freddy? Freddy?" Chica asked. Freddy didn't respond, staring off into the distance. Slowly, and shockingly for the usual calm and collected Freddy, the bear started to scowl. Bonnie and Chica became immediately concerned. Freddy had only ever been mad once, and that was after the Bite of '87, which left Foxy doing anything the bear wanted for nearly a year.

"Simple._ We get them out_," Freddy told her, and he put the note back under his hat, stepping off the stage and walking towards the Security Office with long, determined strides. Bonnie and Chica followed.

* * *

><p>Back in the Security Office, Dalton noticed something odd on the security camera feed. The animatronics were missing.<p>

"What the hell?" he asked aloud, and quickly scanned through all the cameras, spying the three moving down towards the office.

"Oh sweet Jesus!" he shouted, and closed both security doors. Through the window, he watched as the bear, rabbit, and chicken approached the left door. Upon seeing the door shut, the chicken glared at the new guard through the window.

"Great. We got a new guy," Dalton heard it say in a female voice. He watched the bear look at him as well, eyes narrowing. The rabbit looked in with interest.

"You. Open the door," the bear ordered. Dalton shook his head. The rabbit spoke up, voice upbeat and encouraging.

"It's fine, we're not going to hurt you," she explained. Dalton again shook his head, but couldn't deny how interesting his situation was. He stepped closer to the window. The rabbit cocked its head in confusion.

"So are you androids or something?" Dalton asked. The bear thumped a fist against the door.

"We don't have time for this," it said, and plunged a hand through the window, shattering glass around its arm as it grabbed the startled guard by the collar.

"Oh my fuck!" he screamed, staring wide-eyed at the menacing scowl on the bear's face.

"Open the door," it said in a low voice, heavily laden with static. The other two robots stared in shock. Dalton furiously nodded.

"Okay, okay, yeah, whatever you need," he stammered, and began slapping at the wall next to him searching for the button. The exterior light flashed twice and the door finally opened. The bear dropped Dalton, who fell to the floor.

"Thank you," it said, and walked into the office, grabbed the keys off of their place on the wall, and opened the other security door, striding out. The purple rabbit picked the guard up.

"Are you okay?" it asked, setting Dalton unsteadily on his feet.

"Nope," he said flatly, and collapsed into the roller chair, struggling to calm himself.

* * *

><p>Bonnie and Chica followed Freddy after making sure the new guard was okay. They were both startled by what he did, but kept it to themselves. Foxy might have a horrible temper and act out a lot more, but Hell hath no fury like an angry Freddy.<p>

"I'll apologize later," Freddy told them, reading their minds.

"Hey, it's fine, do what you gotta do," Chica said neutrally. Freddy nodded and walked up to the front door, trying the different keys. Bonnie spoke up.

"Um, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but where exactly _is_ that Pizza Baron place?" Bonnie asked. Freddy paused halfway through unlocking the door and pounded his head into it in frustration.

"Yeah, that's sorta important," Chica agreed. Freddy pulled the key out of the lock and turned.

"I'll go ask the guard," Freddy said, and headed back towards the Security Office.

* * *

><p>Dalton's mind was reeling.<p>

_I'm dreaming. Yeah! That's it! This is all a dream, a really messed up, lifelike dream,_ he thought, and immediately began to doubt his own explanation. The bear walked back into the office, and the new guard recoiled and put his hands up reflexively.

"Whoah, I don't want any more trouble, okay? What do you want?" he asked. The bear calmly pulled a piece of paper out from under his hat, and read off of it before looking back up.

"Do you know where Pizza Baron is?" the bear asked, voice calm and level, a slight amount of hopefulness present as well.

Dalton sat thinking for a good moment, scratching his head. He didn't want to frustrate the robot by giving a wrong answer, but he had no clue.

"I know the name, but as for where… Gah, it's, like, by the fire station? No, no, that's Pizza Barrel. Which is actually pretty good if you guys are hungry. They've got this sauce that-," Dalton suddenly rambled. Freddy narrowed his eyes.

"Right, right, sorry. I don't know, okay. Don't kill me," Dalton admitted. The bear let out an impression of a sigh.

"Well, thank you anyway, I suppose. Now follow me," the bear ordered. Dalton sunk further into the chair.

"Why?" he asked.

"It's time you left," the bear said simply, and motioned for Dalton to stand. He did so hesitantly, again not wanting to anger the psycho robotic bear. It led the way back towards the main entrance, and upon reaching it unlocked and opened the door.

"Get out," the bear ordered.

"Does this mean I'm fired?" Dalton asked. The chicken walked up and pushed him through the door.

"No, you quit. Don't tell anyone, or we _will _find out!" the chicken threatened. The new guard nodded, and quickly jumped into his car and drove off. The animatronics watched him leave. Chica rolled her eyes.

"Well, _that_ happened. Guess we're back to square one," Chica said. Freddy shook his head, finally fully composed again.

"Not exactly, we at least know where Michael and Foxy are," Freddy said.

"But not where that place is," Chica countered.

"I'll write another note for Ms. Arianna. We'll just have to wait one more day," Freddy explained sadly, and went to find writing supplies.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Nathan awoke to Clark gently nudging him awake.<p>

"Trout wants you," he said simply.

"Argh, again? Can't a guy catch a break?" Nathan muttered. Clark shrugged, and left the backstage, relieved Foxy was currently deactivated.

Nathan walked out onto the stage and found Trout sipping coffee from a Trout Entertainment mug, examining Baron von Pizzä. He turned when Nathan approached.

"Good morning, Mr. Grymes," he greeted.

"Sir," Nathan replied sleepily.

"Everything in order for today?" Trout asked.

"Yup," Nathan replied simply.

"Wonderful. We open at noon, so clean yourself up a bit. Want to make a good first impression, yes?" Trout said in a sickeningly kind voice, and walked towards his office.

"Dick," Nathan muttered, walking towards the bathroom. Mike was already there, washing his face with a paper towel. He nodded at Nathan through the mirror.

"Hey. What's the deal for today?" the guard asked.

"Well, we pretty much do everything. Pizza's getting made, and the animatronics'll be doing their thing. Foxy too," Nathan explained. Mike nodded.

"Uh huh… Don't you think it's weird Trout's so adamant about putting Foxy in the show? And why go to all that trouble in the first place? Hell, why all the attempted murder and being held prisoner? It doesn't add up," Mike said, throwing away the paper towel. Nathan shrugged.

"I think it's been pretty well established that Trout's one grade A son of a bitch. But I agree," Nathan sympathized.

Hours passed, and as noon approached, a crowd started to gather in front of the doors. The hastily scraped together publicity had worked, at least a little bit, and while it wasn't the massive crowds that had been boasted about, it was a pretty good turn-out.

* * *

><p>Finally, the hour dawned, and Trout stepped in front of the door where a huge ribbon had been strung across the entrance. His speech was simple.<p>

"Ladies and gentleman, children of all ages, welcome to Pizza Baron! The newest member of the Trout Entertainment restaurant division!" he announced happily. There was scattered applause. Satisfied, Trout hefted a pair of oversized scissors from a nearby aide, and cut the ribbon.

"Open for business!" he said proudly, and pushed open the doors.

The people walked in, talking amongst themselves as they took in the large dining hall and stage. Food was ordered at the kitchens, and a number given that a patron took to whatever table they wanted. When the pizza was cooked, it was delivered, piping hot. Nathan and Mike both ordered one, and sat in the back corner, watching everything.

When it was delivered, they both took a bite, then glanced at each other.

"Chica's are better," they said simultaneously, and laughed.

* * *

><p>About a half-hour passed, when the hall darkened and an upbeat polka theme played. Spotlights shone onto the large red curtain, which lifted to reveal the Baron, Maxwell, and Drake. Foxy was nowhere to be seen.<p>

"_Hallo,_ ladies und gentleman, boys und girls, _willkommen _to Pizza Baron!" the Baron greeted cheerfully, "Mein name ist Baron von Pizzä." Maxwell's part of the stage lit up.

"And I'm Maxwell Circuit, but most call me 'Spark Bark'!" he announced, waving both arms. Sir Drake's tower lit up.

"Good morrow lords and ladies, I be Sir Drake," Drake greeted, bowing. Maxwell spoke up again.

"Now that that's outta the way, what do you say to some music?" Maxwell asked the audience. A few scattered "Yeah!"s sounded, mostly from children.

"Awesome! C'mon guys, let's rock!" Maxwell said, and the band launched into the first song.

As the show continued for a few more numbers, with little inserts such as Maxwell's lengthy keytar solo, Mike and Nathan began to wonder where Foxy fit in all this. Not too much later, they got their answer.

Baron was halfway through explaining to Drake and Maxwell the importance of listening to your parents when suddenly the music took a more menacing, nautical tone. The Baron stopped mid sentence. Drake raised his sword.

"By my troth! I think it be… _him,_" he said, lowering his visor.

"Oh no, not _him,_" Maxwell groaned. The Baron nodded grimly.

"I'm afraid so. It's…" Baron led off.

Foxy, in all his battered glory, sprinted onto the stage.

"Ar har har har!" Foxy laughed wickedly, following the script, "Avast there, Baron! I be plunderin' all o' yer precious pizza!"

"Foxy the Pizza Pirate!" the Pizza Baron Band said in unison. Foxy laughed again.

"Aye, it be me!" Foxy said, and suddenly lunged towards the audience, screeching. The people sitting closest flinched backwards, some of the younger children began to cry. Foxy laughed again.

Nathan and Mike were horrified.

"He's the _villain!?_" Mike exclaimed. Nathan just sat, dumbstruck. Foxy, _their_ Foxy, who loved nothing more than to lead his little pirate crew, was being forced to terrorize his "little mateys." And to make things worse, Foxy was aware the entire time.

* * *

><p><em>No, no, no NO!<em> Foxy screamed inwardly, _Stop! Stop! Make it stop!_ But he couldn't. He was following programming, moving and speaking despite his inner wishes. The fox was forced to watch himself as he jumped at, screeched at, and otherwise instilled as much fear as possible towards the audience.

"There be only one way to rid ourselves of this bandit and defend our precious pizza," Drake said to the audience, "If he dares try to rob your pizza, shout at the top of thine lungs 'Go away, Foxy!'"

The absolute worst part had to be when he jumped off the stage. The purpose of the bit would be that he would dash about, trying to steal the pizzas at each table, only to be chased off by the patrons shouting "Go away, Foxy!" The adults and older kids seemed to get a kick out of it, if a little bit concerned that the robot wasn't onstage. For the younger ones, it was terrifying.

One little boy was there celebrating his birthday. Even worse, it was a pirate theme. When Foxy attempted to "steal" the pizza, he started screaming and crying almost in hysterics. The scripting made Foxy laugh.

"I'm gonna get yer pizza, lad!" Foxy said, stepping closer. The child screamed louder.

"Go away, Foxy!" he shouted with all his might, and buried his face into his mother's arms. "I don't want to be a pirate anymore!"

'_M so sorry, lad. 'M so sorry,_ Foxy thought, and watched, devastated, as the entire audience, with spurring on from Sir Drake, took up arms and booed the fox away. _I don' wan' ta be a pirate anymore either._

* * *

><p>The instant Foxy's scripting took him backstage, Nathan and Mike were out of their chairs.<p>

"Thine pizza doth be safe, Lord Baron," Drake said as the two booked it backstage.

"Good job everyone, we won't be seeing _him_ anytime soon!" Maxwell agreed.

"Poor fox, perhaps I should give him some pizza after," Baron suggested, to the booing of the audience.

Nathan threw open the side access door, Mike hobbling behind him as fast as he could.

Foxy sat on the floor, hugging his legs and staring down at the floor. His voice box was making an odd choking sound, and it took Nathan a second to realize the pirate was sobbing. Without lungs, he had to replicate the sound as best he could.

"'M so sorry," Foxy was muttering to himself, "'M so sorry, so sorry mateys."

"Foxy?" Mike asked gently, moving to sit across from him. The fox scooted away. "Foxy, what happened onstage, that wasn't you, the _real_ you. You know that."

"I scare 'em," Foxy said softly, "I can never have a crew again. Why didn' they jus' scrap me?" Nathan put a hand on Foxy's shoulder. He stiffened.

"Foxy, listen to me, you _can't _say things like that, okay? You've got us, you've got Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica. _We're _your crew, Foxy! And what do crews do?" Nathan asked. Foxy looked up.

"They take care o' each other," he said. Nathan smiled.

"That's right," Nathan confirmed, patting his shoulder, "And I've had it up to here with Trout's bullshit. We're getting out of here. _Tonight._ What do you say to that, Captain?" Foxy slowly grinned, and stood up.

"Hoist tha colors, lads, we be settin' a course fer home," he said, and pulled Nathan and Mike into a hug. Nathan and Mike fidgeted.

"Ow, um, Foxy?" Nathan said, "You're a little bit…"

"Sharp," Mike finished, and Foxy let go.

"Righ'," he said, "Pirates don' hug anyway."

_**A/N: Alright guys, we're getting to the end of this one. I'm really proud of this, it's gone in all the directions I wanted it to, and you seem to be enjoying it as well. Kinda feel bad for beating up Foxy so much, but it makes Trout even more of a jerk, and is the final straw to blow that popsicle stand. **_

_**Also, I'm sick. Yay. That's why this chapter was so long, I've had a lot of free time. I'll definitely be better in a few days, since it's just a cold, and I'll be back to my non-biohazard self.**_

_**On a much more positive note: Shout out time! A guy (I assume) on DeviantART recently told me that he made replicas of everyone's favorite pirate fox and the Mangle out of Lego Bionicle parts, and they're awesome! Hit up "Zeusthefox" on DeviantART and check 'em out! I love Lego, and he really managed to capture their likenesses quite well! I'd totally buy all of them if they were official sets for sale. Maybe someday. **_

_**Oh, to my German-speaking readers: I'm sorry, but I'm also not sorry. **_

_**And to KamikazeRebel: -wink- **_

_**That's it for me, so 'til next time, don't shove metal cutlery into power sockets! –DeltaV, Amateur Electrician (Ret.)**_


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Ready for Freddy

Mike and Nathan stayed in the backstage with Foxy, trying to keep the fox from falling back into wallowing in guilt. But there were more performances from the show, and as soon as the next showing started up, Foxy stiffened, eyes wide.

"I don' wan' ta do it again," he said to Nathan. The mechanic put a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't disable it, Foxy, I don't have enough time. You have to go out there," Nathan explained sadly. Foxy grabbed him.

"No! Don' make me! _Please!_" the fox pleaded. Nathan shook his head sadly. Mike stood behind him.

"Foxy, we have no choice," Mike said, "If we're getting out of here, we have to play by the rules."

"No! _No!_ I beg ya, lad, shut me down!" Foxy cried, staring at the floor and whimpering. Nathan grabbed the pirate's head and forced him to make eye contact.

"Listen to me! We'll be right here when you're done. Just… try to ignore it. You're _Captain_ Foxy, and your crew needs you. I know you're scared, I _know_ it upsets you, but you _have _to make the sacrifice if we're ending this," Nathan told him. Foxy looked down again, almost spraining Nathan's wrists, and began to slowly shake his head.

Soon, the haunting nautical music started again, and Foxy snapped his head up.

"No!" he choked out, before the pained expression switched to an evil grin. He turned to the two men.

"Ah har har har! Time ta plunder me some pizza, swabbies!" he said, scripting making the fox's voice much harsher. He sprinted onto the stage, Nathan and Mike watching him leave. Mike scowled.

"Trout's paying for this," he growled, Nathan nodding in agreement.

"I hope Freddy has a plan, and does it fast," Nathan said.

* * *

><p>Arianna reread the wrinkled paper in her hands, recognizing Freddy's handwriting.<p>

_Ms. Arianna,_

_ We found out where Mike and Foxy are, and ask that as soon as we close, wheel us outside. We're getting them back, and the sooner the better. I'm deliberately not letting you know so that you'd have to move us outside to even learn where they are. We also need your help finding its exact location, so stay with us. Please, we're so close, just do this for us._

_Freddy_

The manager shook her head.

_This is insane,_ she thought. Arianna didn't want to bring them outside, knowing that they'd activate their free roam programming. She just didn't want to risk it. But Freddy was smart, and she wanted to know what happened just as much as they did.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, crumpling the note and walking over to the stage. Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie stared off into the distance.

"Alright, fine. I'll get some of the waiters to help me get you outside. We'll figure this all out. I want them back too," Arianna told the unmoving robots, "Well, at least Foxy."

* * *

><p>"Go away Foxy!" yet another child screamed at the metal pirate.<p>

"Curses!" Foxy cried in response, and ran to another table, reaching for the pizza sitting on it with his good hand. The children sitting there recoiled back, and remained silent. He couldn't leave until they said the line. Foxy leaned in closer and closer, and the kids started crying, but wouldn't say the line.

_Say it. Please, mateys, jus' say it,_ Foxy thought as the script made him chuckle darkly.

"Go away Foxy," one of the parents said, much to the pirate's relief. The adults were upset he had scared their children. As Foxy stormed up to another table, he could overhear the mother mutter.

"Horrible machine, scaring all the kids," she grumbled, hugging her daughter.

Finally, all the occupied tables were visited, and the fox ran backstage. He burst through the door and immediately grabbed Nathan, hugging him desperately as the script ended, lifting the mechanic off the ground.

"Please don' make me do it again," he whimpered, starting to sob. Nathan glanced at Mike over Foxy's shoulder. The guard looked back sadly.

"Foxy…" Mike started. Foxy turned his head 180 degrees to face him.

Mike faltered at the pained look on his face.

"There's one more show. Right before closing," Nathan finished, bracing for the reaction. Foxy dropped him, and stared in shock.

"No. No, I won' do it," Foxy said defiantly.

"I know it's hard, but it's just one more sh-,"

"_No,"_ Foxy interrupted, breaking down, "I can' scare anymore! I _can'_! Ye don' know wha' it's like! I've been in tha brig fer years, no' able ta so much as look at me mateys, and now I scare 'em! I _can'_ do that again!" The fox collapsed to the floor haphazardly, landing with a metal crash, and hugged himself, staring off into space. Nathan sighed, and nodded.

"Alright. Okay. You don't have to do it again. You've been really brave, and I'm proud of you. Here, I'll put you in standby so the script won't run," he said, and opened the back of Foxy's head and flicked a few switches. Foxy's eyes dimmed, but remained lit up. The mechanic looked at Mike.

"He glitched out from the new script, we had to completely reload it, he won't be ready for the next show. That's our story, okay?" Nathan explained. Mike nodded.

"No complaint here," Mike replied, staring at the now frozen look of despair on Foxy's face. "Bastards."

"I had no idea it was this bad," Nathan said, "They never put him back into operation? Ever?" Mike shook his head.

"No. Closest thing he got was when he met this kid Caleb after he broke out of Freddy's. Long story short, he freaked the kid's family out and had to run away. He did do a show for my dad, but that's it. Poor guy's tried ever since to get over it, but in the end he's still a kid's animatronic," Mike said, "This is crushing him."

"I can say one thing," Nathan added, "Freddy's going to be _pissed_ when he gets word of this. Let's go inform Trout Foxy's 'Out of Order'."

* * *

><p>"Well, that's unfortunate," Trout said, "And I had so many high hopes for Loxley."<p>

"Foxy," Mike corrected.

"Right. I assume it'll be repaired for tomorrow?" Trout asked Nathan.

"If all goes well, he'll be better than ever," Nathan replied. Trout nodded once, and leaned back in his chair.

"Wonderful," Trout said, lacing his fingers behind his head.

Mike and Nathan had found him in his office, which had wood paneling on the walls as well as a large window showing the dining hall area. Sir Drake was conducting a little act from the top of his tower, holding a "Knight's Training Camp" with a group of kids onstage that were armed with little plastic swords. The others were online as well, with the Baron making casual conversation with some of the parents and Maxwell playing some sort of game off to the side so as not to take away from Drake's show.

Suddenly, an angry knocking sounded at the office door.

"Could you get that, Schmidt?" Trout asked. The guard glared at him, and hobbled over, opening the door. An irate mother stormed through.

"Are you the owner?" she demanded, pointing at Trout. He immediately put on a fake kind smile.

"Yes I am, ma'am, how may I help you?" he asked, sitting up straight and folding his hands on his desk. Mike and Nathan watched awkwardly.

"Just who do you think you are having that monstrosity in your restaurant?" she screamed. Trout smiled.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he replied. The woman huffed.

"_Really?_ I'm talking about that pirate! It terrified both my son and daughter, and I'm sure they'll have nightmares for weeks!" she said harshly. Trout's smile faltered.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, but Furby is just a character," Trout replied, "I think you're overreacting." Nathan stepped in.

"His name is Foxy, actually, and I think I have an idea. Could you meet me by the stage with your family in just a few minutes? I'd like to take you backstage, show your kids the _real_ Foxy, that he isn't scary," Nathan suggested.

"Excellent idea! Mr. Grymes is our mechanic, he works with all of our animatronics here at Pizza Baron. Consider it a free backstage pass, so to speak," Trout agreed, relieved he wouldn't have to deal with the woman any longer. The woman thought about it for a minute.

"I suppose. If it'll make the kids feel better," she finally said. Nathan smiled.

"I'm sure it will," he said, "Follow me."

* * *

><p>Nathan held the door open for the family, the Wilsons, they learned, watching as the mother, father, and their son and daughter walked inside. Mike was already present, having turned on all of the lights to make it as friendly as possible.<p>

Unlike Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, none of the parts for the animatronics were stored backstage, there being a separate service area for any repairs. Instead, the large room was filled with the riggings for the curtains, stage lights, and a few extra set pieces, as well as a back staircase up to Drake's tower. Foxy sat, still in standby, in a corner of the room. The children, Zach and Amanda, stopped and stared upon seeing the animatronic.

"See kids? It's just a robot," Mr. Wilson said. Nathan nodded.

"Yup, but watch. He's actually really nice," Nathan crouched down and flicked Foxy completely on. The show wasn't set to start for another few hours, so it would be his true personality. Foxy's eyes lit up fully, and he locked his eyes on Nathan.

"Foxy? This is Zach and Amanda Wilson. Can you say hi?" Nathan asked. Foxy turned and looked at the children, who clung to their parents. Foxy lowered his ears.

"Ahoy there, Zach and Amanda," he greeted softly, raising his good hand in greeting. Nathan kept up a running dialogue of "commands" to hide Foxy's sentience.

"And Foxy really wants to apologize for being so scary, right buddy?" Nathan asked. Foxy nodded, catching on to the ruse, and waited several seconds.

"Aye," he said simply, "'M sorry." Zach let go of his father's legs, and took two steps towards the fox.

"You're not going to take our pizza?" he asked innocently. Foxy slowly shook his head.

"No," he replied. Amanda joined her brother.

"He's not so bad," she announced quietly. Foxy smiled. Nathan nodded.

"Nope. He's a good fox," he agreed. There was a pause as Zach, Amanda, and Foxy looked back and forth between each other, Foxy smiling warmly the entire time. Slowly, Zach and Amanda smiled to.

"See? Nothing to be scared of," Mike said.

"Yeah," Mrs. Wilson agreed, "Now c'mon, it's time to go home."

"Okay," Zach and Amanda said in unison, and followed their parents out of the backstage, Nathan leading the way. Amanda stopped in the doorway and turned back.

"Goodbye, Foxy!" she called. Foxy waved back.

"Farewell, lass!" he called back, and the door shut.

* * *

><p>Mr. Wilson stuck out a hand to Nathan.<p>

"Thanks for doing that for us," he said. Nathan grasped it and shook, smiling.

"Don't worry about it. He needed it too," Nathan replied. Mr. Wilson gave the mechanic an odd look, and followed his family out of the restaurant.

Happy that it went over well, Nathan walked back into the backstage. Foxy seemed to be in a much better mood, sitting and smiling to himself. Mike was leaned back in a folding chair, eyes closed. Foxy looked up.

"Thank ye, mate," he said gratefully.

"You're welcome," Nathan replied, moving to the back of Foxy's head, "Now let's make sure you don't turn evil on us." He flicked several switches, and the fox's eyes dimmed, smile still on his face. Mike sat up, noticing the change.

"Much better look for him," he commented, then leaned back again.

"Now we just need to wait for Freddy," Nathan said.

* * *

><p>Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was closed for the day, and once the last of the guests left, Arianna got to work getting the employees to wheel out Freddy and the others.<p>

"Move these guys outside, I have a guy coming in to check on that wiring under the stage," Arianna lied. The staff stared at her in confusement. "Don't question me, just get it done!"

The staff quickly sprang into action and grabbed the handcart from backstage. It took three employees to lift an animatronic, and two to push them outside. Arianna waited impatiently for the first one, Freddy, to be wheeled out the front doors. As soon as he was, she walked right up to them.

"Don't move a muscle until the rest leave, got it?" she hissed. Freddy blinked in acknowledgement. An unspoken agreement had already been passed between the three animatronics.

After a few minutes Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica were standing motionless on the sidewalk, employees milling about around them. Arianna clapped her hands.

"Alright, that's all, go home," she ordered. The staff looked at her surprised. They never got to leave right after closing, usually staying to take inventory. Thankful for their luck, they quickly departed, and Arianna and the animatronics were left by themselves. Arianna crossed her arms.

"So? Where are they?" she asked. Freddy stepped forward.

"A restaurant called Pizza Baron," he answered, "Do you know where that is?"

Arianna frowned.

"Yeah, I know where it is. It's several blocks from here," Arianna replied.

"Which way?" Chica asked, looking up and down the street. Arianna crossed her arms.

"Hang on, you're not going over there, are you?" Arianna asked.

Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica nervously exchanged glances, telling Arianna all she needed to know.

"No way, you're not just going to walk your asses over there and break 'em out!" she exclaimed, "What happens if someone sees you? Or if you get damaged? Huh? And one other thing-,"

Arianna's rant was interrupted by Chica screeching loudly, and the manager clasped her hands to her ears, wincing. When she opened her eyes, both Chica and Freddy were glaring at her, Chica with her arms crossed. Bonnie's stare was more pleading. Freddy stepped forward.

"We know the risks, ma'am, and we're willing to take them to get them back. Whether you help us or not is entirely up to you. Now, how do we get to Pizza Baron?" Freddy asked, arching an eyebrow. Arianna looked up at the bear with a frown of her own, and finally sighed.

"Take this street going left. It's in a large shopping complex a good ways down," she grumbled, pointing with an arm. Freddy's expression softened immediately, and he smiled back.

"Thank you. We'll be careful, I promise," he assured, and led Chica and Bonnie onto the sidewalk.

"Yeah, yeah. Just promise me you get 'em back in one piece. Well, at least Mike, since we can't put him back together," Arianna called after, and walked back into the restaurant, having to take inventory by herself. Suddenly and idea crossed her mind, and she picked up the phone, dialing the police. She'd give the robots a few hours, then try and catch whoever was responsible.

* * *

><p>"Hide!" Chica ordered, and she, Freddy, and Bonnie ducked into an alley. Another car drove past. It was much busier compared to the last time they had been outside, and progress became agonizingly slow. Freddy was becoming frustrated to no end, but they hadn't been seen yet. A minute past, and Chica quickly stuck her head out and looked left and right.<p>

"Looks clear," she reported, and stepped outside.

Back on the sidewalk, they moved as fast as they could while still keeping a low profile. After half an hour of moving from cover to cover dodging traffic and pedestrians, they could finally make out the shopping center Arianna described.

Displayed prominently at the front was Pizza Baron. On the outside, it resembled the type of architecture found in pre-Renaissance German country homes, with angled slats of wood over a mainly white building. The biggest feature, of course, was the sign, depicting a hand-drawn portrait of Baron von Pizzä super imposed onto a pizza. The words "Pizza Baron" were arched underneath the portrait in a "Ye Olden Dutch" font.

"That's got to be it!" Bonnie exclaimed, pointing to the building. Chica smirked.

"Really? What was your first clue?" she replied sarcastically.

The group moved slowly, avoiding nightly shoppers as best as they could. Years spent sneaking around the restaurant made it comparatively easy for such large machines, but they didn't escape unnoticed. Several people noticed large figures dart by in their peripheral vision, or thought they saw glowing eyes staring back at them from bushes or alleyways. But they always moved on, muttering about seeing things.

Finally, they made it to the Pizza Baron parking lot. By now, it was close to 10:00, and many of the shoppers had departed for the night. The restaurant itself was closed, although people could be seen moving around inside.

Skipping the formalities, Freddy pulled on the front door. Locked. He stepped back and took a running start, breaking the door's lock and shattering the window, and burst inside with Bonnie and Chica right behind him. He was greeted by several people in coveralls and suits.

"Where's Foxy?" he demanded.

* * *

><p>Nathan, Mike, and Foxy sat idly, the animatronic fox still on standby. New Wave technicians arrived after the restaurant closed to take a look at Baron, Maxwell and Drake.<p>

"What do you think Freddy's going to do?" Mike asked the mechanic.

"Knowing him? Probably get people to send the police or something. He never was much for violence or stuff like that. More of a planner," Nathan replied.

Immediately after the words left the mechanic's lips, a massive _slam_ echoed through the restaurant.

"Where's Foxy?" Freddy's voice, filled with static, sounded through the door. Mike looked at Nathan shock.

"I never said I'd be right!" Nathan said, holding his hands up, and they both dashed outside.

* * *

><p>Freddy looked around at the shell-shocked humans staring at him. He narrowed his eyes.<p>

"Well?" he asked again, anger mounting.

"Freddy! Over here!" Mike's voice called out. Freddy spotted him standing near a door by the stage, waving his arms. Another man, Nathan, stood next to him, waving as well.

"Michael! Thank goodness, I feared the worst! Where's Foxy?" Freddy asked, ignoring the other humans for now.

"He's right back her- hey!" Mike gasped as he was grabbed from behind.

A woman had her hand over his mouth, a handgun aimed at his temple. Freddy remembered what Bonnie had said about those things. She turned to Nathan.

"Back off, Grymes, or the guard dies," she threatened. He quickly backed into the doorway, hands raised in front of him. The woman then turned to Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica.

"Alright you freaks, you're gonna do what I say, or _else,_" she said dangerously, "Here's the deal. You walk your metal asses out of this building by the count of ten, or I splatter this guy's brains all over the wall!"

"Okay, okay, just don't hurt him!" Bonnie agreed pleadingly. Chica crossed her arms.

"You got some serious problems girlie," she shot, "We're just getting our friends back."

"Ten!" the woman called out. Freddy scowled, but took a step backwards.

"Freddy? What are you doing? We're so close!" Chica said bewildered. Freddy shook his head.

"It's not worth risking Michael's life!" he replied.

"Nine!" the woman called out, "Eight! Seven!"

Freddy looked around for something that could possibly help. There were tables, but if he moved forward at all Mike was as good as dead. There had to be _something_ nearby.

"Six! Five! Four!" the woman continued.

"Freddy!" Bonnie cried.

"Three! Two! On-," the woman was cut off by a red furred arm plunging a hook into her right arm and jerking it hard away. A snap of bone was heard, and the gun went off, bullet harmlessly burying itself in the ceiling. The woman screamed in pain as she was forcibly turned around to face her attacker.

"_It's me_," Foxy growled, eyes burning with anger, and he snapped his head forward.

He closed his jaws around her head, and in one fluid motion bit down with all the force his servos could muster. Red sprayed everywhere as Mike fell to the ground, and it coated the front of Foxy's face and torso. The woman fell down limp, and the New Wave technicians scattered.

"Jesus!" Mike screamed, and scrambled away from the corpse, staring at Foxy in shock. The fox opened his jaws again, contents landing on the floor with a _splat, _sporting a sinisterly happy grin. He looked at Freddy and the others and his expression immediately changed to pure delight.

"Freddy! Bonnie! Chica! Mateys, yer here! Yer fina'ly here!" Small flecks of red dripped from Foxy's mouth as he talked. He ran up to them, grabbing them all into a big hug.

"Foxy! You're okay!" Bonnie cried, hugging him back, not caring about the red fluid. Freddy and Chica returned it as well.

"We were so worried!" Freddy replied, and looked the fox in the eye. "Who did this to you?" The bear's voice had dropped an octave, static filtering in as his eyes narrowed. Chica did the same.

"Yeah. What happened?" Chica asked as well.

Foxy launched into a quick explanation, telling the others about how he and Mike had been held against their will and how he had the villain role in the show. Bonnie's jaw hung open in shock, and she hugged Foxy again.

"That's horrible! That awful, awful guy!" she said, and broke the hug, "I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner!" Foxy put his good hand on her shoulder.

"'S okay, Bon, 't ain't yer fault," he said.

Meanwhile, Mike stared at Christina's body in shock. He turned to the animatronics.

"Guys? I hate to break up the reunion, but have you not noticed that _Foxy just bit off someone's head!?_" he screamed. The animatronics turned and looked at the body, then at Mike.

"So? Not the first time," Chica replied nonchalantly, "She seemed like she deserved it, anyway."

"She was going to kill you!" Bonnie reminded. Freddy nodded.

"It's messy, yes, but it did save your life. We can't fault him for that," he agreed, "Now where's this Trout?"

Mike saw the look of pure hatred in the bear's face, and understood the lack of reaction. They were out for blood, and Christiana had, in their eyes, deserved it.

The bear got his answer when Trout sprinted from his office, staring at the scene in front of him.

"What the devil? What is going on here?" he demanded. Freddy turned to face him.

"You're Mr. Trout, I presume?" he asked, voice low and static-filled.

"Y-yes," he replied, backing away slowly towards the stage. Freddy smiled.

"My name is Freddy Fazbear, and you kidnapped members of my family," he said, voice distorting, "That's against the rules."

The bear continued to advance on the CEO, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy following right behind with glares of their own. Trout backed away to the stage, and then was suddenly hit by realization.

"Baron, Maxwell, Drake! The pizzeria is under attack!" he shouted.

The three animatronics onstage were yanked out of standby from the emergency command Trout had installed. They quickly looked at Trout for explanation.

"An attack! Lord Trout, we shall defend this hall! What are thine commands?" Drake asked, lowering his visor and raising his sword. Baron and Maxwell looked expectantly as well.

Trout pointed a finger at Freddy and the others.

"Them! Get them, they're attacking the restaurant!" he ordered, and sprinted for his office.

Freddy turned to follow, but was stopped by Baron von Pizzä stepping off the stage in front of him. Maxwell backed him up, looking at the situation uncertainly, while Drake was still confined to his tower, unable to traverse stairs. Freddy and the others were temporarily surprised about seeing other animatronics like themselves, but pushed it aside to get to Trout.

"Please get out of the way," Freddy ordered. Baron shook his head.

"_Nein,_ I must ask jou to leave zhis pizzeria!" Baron replied, pointing towards the entrance. Now it was Freddy's turn to shake his head.

"I'm afraid I can't," he replied, "Not until I have a word with your boss." Freddy stood a good foot taller than the Baron, but the German shepherd wasn't intimidated.

"Ve seem to be at un impasse, zhen," Baron said darkly, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, it appears that way," Freddy replied, narrowing his eyes as well.

A moment of silence hung, with several New Wave technicians peering out anxiously from behind overturned tables. Freddy screeched and launched himself into Baron, knocking him to the ground with a crash of metal. Maxwell and Bonnie jolted at the sound and ran into each other. They exchanged glances, then immediately began flailing their arms at each other, heads turned away.

Foxy was searching the room.

"Nathan? Nathan, lad, state yer bearin's!" Foxy called, and began searching for him .

Chica shook her head at Maxwell and Bonnie's "fight," and watched Baron and Freddy roll around on the floor, trying to gain leverage on each other.

"What be the matter, duck wench? Too frightened to duel?" Drake taunted from the top of his tower. Chica turned and scowled up at him.

"Says the guy who can't leave his stupid tower," she shot back. Drake faltered.

"I challenge thee to a duel, upon mine tower!" Drake declared, hoping to save face.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you come down here and say that? Huh? Tough guy?" Chica asked, climbing onto the stage and standing at the base of the tower, wings on her hips. Drake forced his visor upwards.

"A battle of wits, eh? Very well, but I refuse to battle against an unarmed opponent," Drake said, a sly smile on his face. _Quite a good line,_ he thought. Chica scoffed.

"Oh, _I'm_ unarmed? Quit bein' a sissy and come down here like a, whatever you are!" she called up to him. The two of them began exchanging various insults as Bonnie and Maxwell conducted their slap fight and Freddy and the Baron wrestled, trading blows.

"You kidnapped my friends!" Freddy accused, pounding on the Baron's torso.

"Ve did no such thing! He vas brought in as a new member of our show!" Baron replied, shoving the bear off of him. They both struggled to stand, only to knock each other over again.

Bits of metal and suit pieces flew after every hit as Freddy and Baron both began taking damage.

"Your boss threatened to kill Michael!" Freddy declared.

"_Nein!_ He told me he vas just being held prisoner!" Baron countered.

"Do you even know what that means?" Freddy asked

"_NEIN!_" Baron cried as a strike from Freddy knocked his jaw askew.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Maxwell finally landed a solid hit into Bonnie's face, and stopped immediately.<p>

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, immediately guilty.

"I think so," Bonnie replied, then smacked him in the head.

"Hey! What was that for?" he asked, upset.

"Now we're even!" Bonnie said, and the flailing resumed.

* * *

><p>Foxy opened the door to the backstage, and saw a New Wave technician questioning Nathan.<p>

"What the fuck's going on, man? There's crazy robots and shit, _what's going on?_" the tech asked, shaking Nathan by the shoulders. Foxy screeched.

"Le' go o' 'im!" Foxy roared.

Both the mechanic and technician stared at the gore-splattered fox. The tech screamed and bolted, running towards the animatronic servicing area. Nathan's jaw dropped as Foxy walked up to him.

"Oh no, Foxy, no," Nathan said softly, recoiling as Foxy's loose jaw dropped as well, its contents less than welcoming. Foxy closed it with his hook.

"Wha' are ya doin' in here? Freddy an' tha others be fightin' ou'side!" Foxy said. A fleck of red flew out of the fox's moving mouth and splattered onto Nathan's face. He put a hand over it in horror and furiously wiped it away.

"Who…?" Nathan asked, gesturing to the gore. Foxy looked at himself.

"Oh, tha' wench Christina. Gonna kill Mike she was," Foxy explained, and began trying to wipe it off of himself. Nathan nodded in understanding.

"I see… Holy shit," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Suddenly he jolted up and stared at Foxy wide-eyed.

"Wait, they're _fighting?_" the mechanic asked. Foxy nodded.

Nathan sprinted for the door, but skidded to a halt and ran to the animatronic servicing area, grabbing his toolbox. He barreled back through the backstage access and stopped onstage, Foxy behind him, staring at the sight in front of him.

Freddy and Baron were wrestling across the floor, several overturned tables and pieces of suit and metal surrounding them. Bonnie and Maxwell were awkwardly trying to slap each other while Chica and Drake shouted back and forth. Drake apparently hadn't figured out stairs. Mike tackled a technician that tried to attack Bonnie with a chair. A shout drew the mechanic's attention to Drake and Chica.

"Oh I've had enough of you!" Chica yelled at Drake, and started climbing up the tower.

"Ah ha! Finally, a real duel. I hope you're prepared, Duck, for I am a valiant defender of Lord Trout and Sir Baron! I swore upon myself to never back down from a fi-," Drake's speech was cut off from Chica charging him and shoving him off the tower. He shouted in surprise and landed with a massive crash onto the stage below, denting the floor.

"Finally!" Chica called triumphantly from the top of the tower.

On the stage, Drake shakily rose to his feet. His helmet had been knocked off, his sword bent, and one of his legs warped. He examined himself.

"By my troth," he muttered.

Drake's landing caught the attention of everyone else, Freddy and Baron even halting their battle to see what happened.

"You okay, D?" Maxwell called over, Bonnie looking over as well. Drake nodded.

"Aye, I am fine," he replied. Chica started back down the stairs.

"Good, now we can really finish this," she told him. Freddy and Baron started fighting again, as did Maxwell and Bonnie.

The room exploded into a cacophony of metal on metal, shouting, and screams from New Wave technicians as Freddy and Baron's fight headed their way. Nathan jumped off the stage and sprinted for them.

Pieces of Freddy's and Baron's respective suits had been torn, and the Baron's jaw was broken and askew. Freddy had long lost his hat and his left eye flickered from a punch to the face. Nathan stood as close as he could and tried to break it up.

"Guys! Guys! Stop it before you kill each other!" Nathan shouted.

"Trout is a liar and a thief!" Freddy growled.

"No, jou are zhe thief, trying to take away our newest member!" Baron shot back, "I von't let you destroy my restaurant!"

"Foxy's not one of you!" Freddy countered, "Your show hurt him! Didn't you notice how upset he was afterward?"

The fight paused as the Baron thought this over. He was currently trying to push the bear off of him, arm cocked out to the side to strike. Baron let it fall to the ground.

"_Mein Gott,_" Baron said, "I zhought he malfunctioned, and couldn't perform." Nathan shook his head.

"I lied. Being the villain and scaring those kids made him so upset I couldn't bear making him do it a third time," Nathan explained, "And it was all done because of Trout."

Baron looked at Foxy for confirmation. The fox had followed Nathan over to try and back up Freddy. He nodded, looking down sadly at the memory. Baron looked back at Freddy.

"I believe you," he said simply. Freddy gave a small smile and rolled off of Baron, slowly standing up. He offered a hand and pulled Baron to his feet as well. Looking around he saw Maxwell and Bonnie still flailing at each other, having moved to the foot of the stage.

Onstage, Drake kept Chica at bay with his bent sword, while the bird swung back with Maxwell's keytar. The distance between them and the shortness of the damaged sword and musical instrument resulted in a lot of misses.

"Hold it!" Baron and Freddy simultaneously roared, and Maxwell and Drake froze, Maxwell getting whacked in the head. Freddy's command stopped Bonnie and Chica soon after.

"They aren't our enemies!" Baron cried.

"What!?" Drake asked, "But Lord Trout-,"

"Trout's a liar!" Chica interrupted.

"You scoundrel! Lord Trout is a fair, wise-," Drake replied.

"No, no, zhe _huhn_ is right. He stole Foxy," Baron explained.

"What? Is that true, Captain?" Maxwell asked.

Foxy nodded.

"Aye, lad. 'Tis true," he confirmed.

"That scoundrel!" Drake shouted, "And I would haft given mine life for him!"

The dragon stomped in circles, ranting about how nobody seemed to have honor anymore. Maxwell and Bonnie made up immediately, and the wolf-dog noticed the large red smears on Foxy.

"Hey Captain? What's that stuff?" he asked.

"'Ts a weird gunk tha' humans have in 'em," Foxy explained.

"Oh. What?" Maxwell cocked his head.

"Later, Spark," Nathan said.

"Yes. Now we find Trout," Freddy said, and strode purposefully for the office. Mike, fight with the technicians finished, went to follow, but Chica held him back.

"You probably don't want to watch," Chica said, staring after the bear, "Freddy's… upset."

Freddy spotted Trout through the window and scowled. Trying the door revealed he had locked it, but to no avail as Freddy broke it open.

"Mr. Trout? A quick word…" Freddy said, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Mike and the others sat around awkwardly for several minutes. Freddy had lowered the curtains in the office, so it was anybody's guess to what the bear was doing. Nathan had a rag and tried cleaning the worst parts of Christina off of Foxy.<p>

"Christ, Foxy. Ew, _shit_," he swore, wiping Foxy's torso. Progress finally advanced to Foxy's mouth. Nathan gulped.

"Alright, open up," he said hesitantly. Foxy did, and Nathan retched, hunching over away from the robot. He dry heaved again, and slowly sat up, closing his eyes and slowly pushing the rag between Foxy's jaws. Nathan grimaced, and finally abandoned the idea, running to a trash can and vomiting.

"I admit, I overrea'ed a bit," Foxy said, pulling the now red rag out of his mouth.

"Guh, you _think?_" Nathan replied, spitting into the trash can.

"What do you think he's doing in there?" Maxwell asked, pointing to Trout's office. Occasional pounding and the sound of things falling over could be heard, as well as screeching and screaming.

"I almost feel bad for the guy," Chica said, "Almost."

Finally, the door opened and Freddy stepped out, closing the door behind him. He retrieved his top hat from where it had fallen and brushed dirt off of it, putting it on calmly as if nothing were out of the ordinary. The others stared at him expectantly, and the bear looked up.

"Well, we should get going. I'm fairly certain Ms. Arianna will send the policemen to take care of the rest," he told the Fazbear group.

"What about Trout?" Mike asked.

"I'm sure he'll confess to everything," Freddy replied, giving a knowing smile.

* * *

><p>Sure enough, the police did arrive, finding the interior of the restaurant thrashed and the animatronics damaged. There were several technicians, but they were in too much shock to say what happened, but one did point out Christina's body. The officers bagged it solemnly for the autopsy. Trout was discovered in his office, face completely white and eyes staring off into space.<p>

"Mr. Trout? Sir, are you alright?" the officer that found him asked.

"It's all my fault. I stole a robot from Freddy Fazbear's Pizza," Trout confessed.

"We'll look into that, but what about the damage?" the officer questioned.

"I, I, b-blamed it on a, um, criminal organization. T-they f-found out," Trout explained.

"Did you get a name? Which gang?" the officer pressed, but Trout refused to say anymore. The officer turned to his partner.

"Get these guys to station. Someone's going to jail for something, we just need to find out who," he said. His partner nodded and relayed the orders through his radio. The officer rubbed his face.

"Jesus, what a night,"

_**A/N: Well, there you have it, and what a night it was! There'll be an epilogue posted soon that'll wrap up all of the loose ends. I'm not totally proud of this ending, but I wanted to finish this so badly, and I think it works out okay. I'll probably be happier with the epilogue. **_

_**This has been the longest story yet, and on the whole I'm pretty proud of it. I created a villain most of you guys hated the guts of, and a pretty powerful emotion-wise scene with Foxy playing an evil role himself. I figured Christina got what she deserved, and it certainly seems like Trout did too. I didn't want the Pizza Baron Band to be evil as well, since like the Fazbear gang, they're innocent and just doing what they know. **_

_**I'm thinking of taking a short break and writing a story for "The Golden Years" to kind of unwind from all the darker tones of this story and just write something fun.**_

_**If you haven't already, do check out my DeviantART page (link in my bio) so you can check out the awesome artwork people have made based on my stories. You can also find downloads for edited (for continuity and writing mechanics) versions of both Night One and Night Two in my gallery, as the Literature function for DA is kinda cruddy. The other nights will slowly be added as well, but due to how the file system works, I need a preview image to upload it. I think it'd be great for it to be a title card, and thanks to Tesla51 (you're awesome!) I got ones for Night One and Two. Whoo! As always, I strongly encourage and support ANY creative thing you fine folks have made or want to make based on "Just Another Night," and I thank all of you for reading and supporting ME through my endeavors. **_

_**Thank you all so much for following this series, whether you have just discovered it or have been with me all along like some literary stalker, and I shall see you all with Night Six! (After, you know, the Golden Years thingy. –cough-). –DeltaV "Frontal lobes: Betcha can't eat just one!" **_


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue: Wrapping Things Up

Four days later the police investigation neared its conclusion. The autopsy done on Christina's body revealed a striking similarity to a previous incident that occurred in 1987, and detectives arrived at the front doors of Freddy Fazbear's. Work on the kitchen had finally been completed to the point that Foxy was able to move back to his Cove. He was not, however, completely cleaned up, and had just been dropped off by Mike. When the detectives swabbed the animatronic's mouth for DNA, they found a match.

Thankfully for Freddy's, Trout had already confessed to stealing the robot fox, and had been caught in the fake "gang attack" alibi he cooked up to keep Freddy's away from the investigation. Now Trout was charged with theft and involuntary manslaughter for being indirectly responsible for Christina's death. Several New Wave technicians were questioned as well, and Nathan pointed the police in the right direction by saying that they were responsible for the programming Foxy used. The end result was predictable, at least for the people at Freddy's.

Pizza Baron was forcibly shut down, and Trout Entertainment came under fire for unsavory business practices and a disregard of employee safety. Many of the technicians caught up and injured by Foxy' rampage immediately turned and pointed the finger at Trout. The other animatronics were discarded, and Trout was arrested. Freddy's attempted a lawsuit, but were unable to afford the legal fees, happy to take a settlement from Trout in order to not go to the press about the incident.

It was with this settlement that the kitchens were completely finished, and the restaurant was finally able to give the animatronics one thing they never had before since the Bite: a bath. This was the environment Mike walked into when he reported for his shift.

* * *

><p>The guard was late, still recovering from the bullet wound in his leg. He had dropped off Foxy earlier that day, as Pirate's Cove had been completely cleared out. It was a bit of a relief to not have to worry about Foxy being on his own anymore.<p>

By the time he made it into his office it was already ten minutes past midnight. The animatronics weren't onstage, but Mike didn't care. He preferred to spend this shift sitting in the office and keeping weight off of his leg. Loud clanking footsteps slowly approached from the left side door. Mike looked up.

"Oh, hey Fox-_oh my God!_" Mike screamed, staring at the abomination in front of him.

It was not Foxy, nor was it any of the others. Instead, it was slightly smaller and entirely metal, with a flat, square-shaped head with bright red lights in the place of eyes. Two odd metal rods poked from the top of its head, with a joint in the middle. Its jaw looked more like a bent square, with small flat teeth set in them. The machine held up its hands.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" it said in Bonnie's voice. Mike stared back.

"_Bonnie?_"Mike asked, "What happened?"

Several pieces of Bonnie's skull shifted, trying to change the expression on the non-existent suit.

"Our suits are getting cleaned," Bonnie explained, "We get them back tomorrow."

Mike sighed in relief, and put a hand to his chest.

"No offense, you look terrifying," he said, unable to look at the robot for more than a few seconds.

Rapid clanking sounded down the hall, and another endoskeleton leaned around the doorframe. This one had two triangles set on the sides of its head, bright yellow lights for eyes, and lacked a right hand. The metal was more worn and rusted, especially around the legs, and Mike recognized it immediately. It was Foxy.

"Are ye alrigh', lad? I heard ya screamin'," Foxy said, endoskeleton's jaw opening and closing widely.

"I'm fine. Didn't expect you guys to be all metal. Listen, Foxy, I need to talk to you," Mike said, and turned to Bonnie, "Alone, preferably."

Bonnie nodded in understanding, and left, leaving Foxy standing in the left doorway. Mike rolled his chair more centered and turned it fully to face the animatronic.

"Wha'd ya wan' ta talk abou'?" Foxy asked, cocking his head to the side.

"You biting Christina," Mike replied solemnly.

"Wha' abou' it?"

"Don't you think that was a little… excessive?" Mike asked carefully.

Foxy pushed up his loose jaw with his right arm-stump.

"I 'spose," he said, "Don' tell me ye didn' wan' her ta ge' away wit everythin'."

"No, no, not that," Mike replied, "It's just… Jesus, you didn't have to _kill_ her!"

Foxy's skull did its best to show a confused look, his red endoskeleton eyes rotating.

"The wench was abou' ta kill ya! Wha' was I 'sposed ta do?"

Mike threw his hands up into the air.

"I don't know, knock her out or something! You can't just kill people, Foxy! What about those other guards, huh?" Mike pointed out, "What happened to all of that?"

"Tha's differen', tha poor swabs didn' deserve it," Foxy countered, "An' I still be feelin' a migh' terrible abou' tha'."

Mike ran a hand through his hair, blowing air out between his lips.

"It's just… You guys didn't _care._ Somebody died, and yeah she was an asshole, tried to kill me and all that, but it was still a _person,_" Mike said softly, "And you seemed to _enjoy_ killing her."

Foxy thought this over for a long moment, processor whirring loudly.

"Mike, I was protectin' me crewmate, nothin' more. Yer takin' this too harshly, mate," he said, and walked out of the office.

Mike sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with both hands. The guard was still in shock over Christina's death, and his confidence in Foxy had dropped. He was happy the fox wasn't living with him anymore. Loud clanking sounded from the right, and one of the others, Mike wasn't sure yet, peeked in.

"Hello Michael," Freddy greeted.

Upon hearing the bear's voice, Mike could recognize a few features, but it wasn't much to go on. The biggest giveaways were the small round ear articulators on his metal skull and blue-tinted animatronic eyes.

"Hey Freddy," Mike greeted in return.

"How is your leg?" Freddy asked, glancing down at the injured limb.

"Hurts like Hell, but I'll live," Mike replied, "What'd you say to Trout? He confessed to everything."

Freddy gave him a knowing smile. As good a one he could get with just his endoskeleton, anyway.

"I convinced him to reconsider going into the pizzeria business, as well as helping him realize the error of his ways. I think it worked rather well," the bear replied.

"Uh-huh, and the urine found in his office? That a part of your "convincing" methods?" Mike asked with a small smile.

Freddy chuckled, but didn't reply.

"It's nice having Pirate's Cove back to normal," Freddy suddenly said, "I missed having Foxy around."

"I won't. He snuck out practically every day. It's a miracle he didn't get caught," Mike replied, then after a short pause, asked, "Can I talk to you about something?"

Freddy nodded.

"Of course you can. People have told me I'm a good listener," Freddy said, and slowly lowered himself to the floor. He motioned for Mike to go ahead.

Mike took a breath, and began.

"It's about that whole 'bite' thing," Mike explained, "I mean, Foxy _killed_ someone and hasn't given a second thought about it. It's a little… disturbing."

"That person was trying to kill you, he was just trying to protect you," Freddy reminded.

"I know, I know, and I _am_ thankful for it, but it's just… he seemed so _happy_ to do it, and…" Mike trailed off.

"And you think we're right back at square one, shoving unfortunate people into suits," Freddy finished.

Mike looked away.

"…Yeah," Mike admitted.

Freddy imitated a sigh.

"Michael, you know as well as I do that Foxy doesn't want to hurt anyone, not really. Yes, what he did was excessively violent and probably uncalled for, but I think you're looking at this the wrong way. Don't think of it as Foxy killing that terrible woman, but rather as Foxy saving _you_, somebody he most certainly cares about, as do the rest of us," Freddy explained,

"Was it the correct way to do it? No, but it's done and over with, and he believes he did the right thing. I think you should believe it as well, and not consider him or any of us deranged killers anymore. Remember your parents? They're alive and well, and they spent an entire evening with us. Or the mall? The incident with the police officers? I think we behaved ourselves rather well in the murdering department," Freddy joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Mike sat in thought, processing Freddy's words while the bear sat quietly, whirring and clicking as pieces moved across his endoskeleton. The guard finally sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"I guess you're right," Mike agreed, "I guess I'll let it go for now, if I can."

"That might be for the best. If it still bothers you, we can talk about it some more later. But right now? I think Foxy is settling back into Pirate's Cove, so I suppose I better visit him," Freddy said, and stood up, different joints and servos working in tandem to keep his balance. He clanked off into the direction of Pirate's Cove.

Mike sat spinning himself back and forth slowly in his chair, before finally deciding to get up and join the others.

* * *

><p>Nathan had spent the last few days in the now shut-down Pizza Baron fixing the damage the band had sustained from the fight. Well, "fight" was a strong word for what happened to Maxwell and Drake, but Baron had quite a few "wounds."<p>

Maxwell was completely fine, and Drake needed his left leg replaced, as well as a new sword. Baron needed a new jaw assembly, suit, ribcage supports (Freddy had warped them with his weight), and other little tweaks for bends and dents.

"I still cannot believe zhat Herr Trout did zhose zhings," Baron said as Nathan finished replacing his suit.

"Yeah, well, he certainly didn't want you to," Nathan replied.

"Why'd he do it, though?" Maxwell asked from his spot onstage.

Drake snorted from the foot of his tower, not wanting to climb back up.

"It matters not as to the why, not at present. Nay, what is important now is what fate shall bring upon us now that the pizzeria doth be closing," Drake reminded.

Nathan finished tugging the suit over Baron's arms, ensuring all the necessary connections were made.

"I actually got that figured out," Nathan said, "I got a buddy who works at this amusement park called Adventure Park. Crappy name, I know. Anyway, they're opening this new ride that's like a time travel thing or whatever. I figure you guys'd fit right in."

Maxwell was immediately excited.

"Whoah, an amusement park? That's so cool!" he cheered, "What's an amusement park?"

Nathan and Baron chuckled, while Drake snorted and shook his head, a smile peeking through the façade of disappointment.

"It sounds better zhan being taken apart for parts," Baron agreed, "Vhen do we go?"

"He should be picking you guys up in the next few days. You'll get your whole charging rigs and stuff, so you'll be fine. It's not too far away either, so I might come visit," Nathan explained.

"Can you?" Maxwell asked, "It'd be awesome to see you again!"

Drake nodded.

"Aye, doth have been the greatest of assistances towards our band," he agreed, "A happy return would be most welcome."

"What he said," Maxwell added.

"Don't worry, I will," Nathan assured, "But now? It's getting late, and I better shut you guys off. Goodnight everyone, good luck with the park."

"Goodnight," the animatronics chorused, and Nathan threw the master switch, the animatronics heads hanging limply as they were shut off.

* * *

><p>"Foxy, it's been <em>three hours<em> can you please quit the sea shanties?" Mike pleaded, whacking his head against the back of his rolling chair. The fox was so loud the songs carried throughout the restaurant and not even closing the security doors could drown him out.

"No!" Foxy called, and continued to sing.

Mike groaned and leaned back, subconsciously humming along. He jolted upright, incredibly upset.

"Damn it!" he shouted, frustrated. Foxy paused.

"Wha' now, lubber?" he called from his Cove.

"It's stuck in my head!" Mike yelled back.

Foxy's laughter rang throughout the building and he dove back into song. Mike sighed and started humming along again, finally giving in.

"Just another freakin' night," Mike sighed, and got up to hobble over to Pirate's Cove and join in.

_**A/N: And there you have it. The epilogue. To sum up where we stand right now, Trout's screwed, Freddy's got some extra cash, Pirate's Cove is back to being like before the fire, Foxy's moved back, and their suits are all getting cleaned. This has been one heck of a night to write, and certainly the most intricate in terms of plot and characters. I'm putting the Pizza Baron gang on a bus so I can bring them back for cameos or such things, since I couldn't just kill off reader submissions. That'd be uncool. Nathan's probably going to stick around the area, maybe even get a job at Freddy's, I don't know. **_

_**A lot of you guys wanted the PB gang to join Freddy's, but that would just result in way too many characters for me to juggle at once, as well as not be practical at all for the restaurant in universe. So, yep, it's back to the original gang, with Nathan probably showing up a bit more. Some of you were disappointed that Trout didn't die, but I actually did write a death scene before dropping it for the sake of plot. So, in honor of finishing another night, here's how the man you all hated would've gone out. I probably don't have to say this, but gore and violence ahead, so be forewarned. **_

Deleted Scene: Gutting the Trout

"That scoundrel!" Drake shouted, "And I would haft given mine life for him!"

The dragon stomped in circles, ranting about how nobody seemed to have honor anymore. Maxwell and Bonnie made up immediately, and the wolf-dog noticed the large red smears on Foxy.

"Hey Captain? What's that stuff?" he asked.

"'Ts a weird gunk tha' humans have in 'em," Foxy explained.

"Oh. What?" Maxwell cocked his head.

"Later, Spark," Nathan said.

"Yes. Now we find Trout," Freddy said, and strode purposefully for the office. He was cut off by the chiming of the large clock in the dining area. It was midnight. The Pizza Baron animatronics visibly jolted, and looked at Nathan and Mike with a complete lack in recognition, and Baron turned to the mechanic.

"_Was?_ Vhat are you doing vithout jour suit?" he asked.

"What?" Nathan asked.

"Oh crap," Mike said, "We need to go."

Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy nodded in unison, and the rabbit and chicken each grabbed a human.

"We got these, don't worry," Chica said, lifting Mike and carrying him bridal style.

"Yeah," Bonnie added, doing the same with Nathan.

"Really? Thanks guys. Hey, we'll see you at the show, okay?" Maxwell said, and waved as the Fazbear gang took Mike and Nathan to safety.

A noise from Trout's office caught the Pizza Baron Band's attention, and the door opened to reveal Trout standing there.

"Is it over? Are they gone?" he asked the robots. Drake walked up to him.

"Most uncouth, carousing 'round our fair hall without the proper attire. Come with me," he said, and grabbed Trout's hand, dragging him towards the stage.

"What the-, what is the meaning of this?" Trout demanded. Maxwell walked beside him.

"Hey, it's okay, we just gotta put you in your suit, and it'll be all good," he said comfortingly, punching Trout softly in the arm. He winced at the still strong hit.

"What? But I'm a human, damn it!" he protested, and struggled in Drake's grip. Baron shook his head.

"_Nein,_ our programming states zhat no one is allowed after hours, so jou can't be. I vill say, it vas a nice try," Baron said, and held the door open for Drake.

The animatronics said nothing further as the dragon continued to pull Trout towards the animatronic service area. Maxwell walked ahead and pulled off a spare suit of the Baron's.

"This'll work, right?" he asked.

"Aye, it shall fit," Drake said, and Maxwell handed the suit over. Drake opened the back and held it open expectantly. Trout made no move to wear it, staring at the many crossbars and pulleys.

"Come now, ve can't have jou out of uniform," Baron said, and gave Trout what he thought was an encouraging push.

Being moved closer to the mass of metal cause Trout to panic, and try his hardest to push away. Baron frowned, and pushed him towards the open suit harder, overcoming Trout's resistance and forcing him into the unyielding metal. Trout screamed as the wires cut into him, and with a final shove and a terrible _squish_, the screams fell silent and red splashed everywhere.

"Ew! He leaked!" Maxwell whined, the mess from the growing pool on the floor off of his foot. Drake took his helmet off and polished it furiously.

"Disgusting," he grumbled. Baron nodded, having much of the fluid end up on the front of his torso.

"And it also appears he malfunctioned," Baron observed, staring at the limp suit lying on the floor.

"Such shoddy construction," Drake agreed, "I shall take my leave, I want nothing more with this." Drake walked back towards the dining area, trying to wipe off the red stains.

"I'm going too," Maxwell said, and followed the departing dragon.

Baron frowned at the mess on the floor.

"Vhy was it made zhat vay? I'll never understand it," he said to himself, and left the room as well, leaving Trout's corpse to be found in the morning.

_**A/N: So yup, that's how Trout would have died. Thanks for joining me on this grand adventure, and stick around for the much lighter Golden Years oneshot and Night Six! Here's a sneak preview, take it away, Mike:**_

"There's not even a door to this office," Mike observed, pointing to the large doorway leading out into the long, dark hallway. He shined his flashlight down it, seeing Foxy standing at the end, looking back after walking down the hall. Mike flashed the light a couple of times.

"Stop it!" Foxy complained, shielding his eyes with his arm, "Yer makin' me lose me bearin's!"

_**See you guys later, and as always: Have a good one! –DeltaV, Director's Cut.**_


End file.
